Flying Blind
by gotgoats
Summary: When Gibbs becomes ill, Tony feels like he's flying into a storm. Neither of them really like flying to begin with, but there's nothing worse than flying blind. NO CHARACTER deaths. SLASH. Written as a birthday present for my best friend, Headbanger Rockstar. Love ya, dude!
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. If I did, Ziva would have died along with Jenny. Just sayin'.

Note: This is a birthday present for my best friend, Headbanger Rockstar. I can't thank you enough for being here for me, HR. There's days when I'd have given up if it weren't for your goofiness, your support, and your ability to gently push me along. So, happy birthday, I love you, and I hope you enjoy your story! It's gonna be a Gibbs-whump instead of a Tony-whump, but I think you'll like it just the same. I LOVE YOU! Ptbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbbb !

############

The alarm clock buzzed, and Gibbs rolled over, hitting it off, upset that he felt exhausted once again. It had been months since he felt like he'd actually slept, and although he'd talked to Ducky, there'd been nothing wrong. More than once, he'd felt foggy while chasing down a subject, and he'd faltered a couple of times. Those combined were worrying him. He was a liability in the field. A liability, but why?

He groaned as Tony rolled out of bed, stretching. At least one of them had a good night's sleep.

"Morning." He smiled over at Gibbs, but he frowned after a moment. "You ok?"

"Yeah, tired." Gibbs groaned. "Feel like I can't ever get enough sleep."

"This coming from a man who, only a few months ago, was working circles around me." He winked playfully. "I'm not wearing you out, am I?"

Gibbs huffed, shaking his head. "Nope. Hard to wear me out when I've fallen asleep before you get to bed every night."

"True." Tony nodded. "When's your next physical?"

"Had it yesterday. Already had Ducky run a bunch of blood-work, and the other guy looked it over, too. He didn't find anything out of the ordinary."

"Yeah, but something's going on."

"Yeah. But kinda hard to deal with something that you don't know about." With a kiss to his lover's head, Tony headed for the shower, letting Gibbs catch another half hour of sleep.

Hours later, Gibbs regretted not taking a day off of work. He was right. He was a liability in the field, even if "nothing" was wrong. They'd been in a fire-fight, and he'd frozen. It was as if his brain had checked out, and he'd not known what the hell to do with his gun for a few seconds. It had been a costly few seconds.

He didn't care what any tests showed or didn't show. He was done in the field until he had answers. He'd nearly gotten Tony killed.

Gibbs stood by the window, waiting for Tony to wake up. The younger man's surgery had been successful, and now it was just time for him to ease out of the sedation. He rubbed his head, willing away the ache behind his eyes. At times like this, he felt older than his fifty years.

His back ached, but he blamed it on the hard chairs in the waiting room. He cracked his neck, and felt some of the pressure release. Thank heavens for small favors.

He returned to Tony's side, patting his hand once more. This was such an old hat for them, and he was tiring of the game. Maybe that's what was wrong. He felt off, and perhaps that was the problem. He was just tired of this part of their job.

"Hey, Babe." Gibbs spoke softly. "Gonna wake up for me? You've been asleep for a couple of hours now. The nurses want to see your green eyes." He smirked. "Well, so do I. But the nurses will keep pestering us until you open them."

He waited a few more minutes before repeating the same cycle. Pat Tony's hand, talk to him, even if it didn't make sense, and watch for signs that his lover was waking up.

"Come on, Tony, know you hurt. The bullet was a through and through, though. In and out. They just needed to fix you up a bit. Time to wake up, though."

After what seemed to be an eternity, Tony finally cracked his eyes open and smacked his lips together.

"What gotta do to get quiet?" He smirked a bit, knowing Gibbs would get their joke.

"What ya just did. Need a drink?" Tony nodded, and Gibbs held a straw to his lips, letting Tony take a swallow of the room-temperature water.

Tony drifted back to sleep, and Gibbs let the nurse know the younger man had woken for a moment, and that he'd had a swallow of water.

"Well, I'll let the doctor know, and then we'll get him to a room." She smiled sweetly at him. "Why don't you take a break? You've been tense and waiting since he was first brought in." She nodded to the open door. "Go on, take a few minutes to yourself. I'll let him know that you'll be back if he wakes up again."

Gibbs nodded, knowing she was right. They'd had to skip breakfast that morning, and his last coffee had been over four hours ago. He was needing something.

"Going for coffee."

Over the years, the man's reputation had become well-known in the hospital, especially the ICU and recovery rooms. Katie smiled as she watched him disappear into the elevator. She had no doubt that the older nurses were right. He'd be gone all of ten minutes, and return with two cups of coffee and a half-eaten sandwich.

############

Twenty minutes passed, and Agent Gibbs had still not returned. Tony was awake, and he fussed, just like always, expecting Gibbs to show up any moment. Another few minutes passed, and he decided to ask a nurse to call. Something just wasn't right.

Down in the lobby, Ducky came upon an unusual sight. Gibbs stood at the black placard.

"How are you, Jethro? How is young Anthony?"

"Ducky!" Gibbs felt relief course through him. He'd not known exactly what was happening, but his brain had seemed to be blank, and he could pull nothing to his thoughts.

Ducky looked his friend up and down, slightly nonplused at his odd behavior.

"Are you alright? I daresay you look a little, for lack of a better word, confused."

"Just tired, Duck." Gibbs rubbed his head. "Couldn't remember where I was going for a minute."

"Did they move Anthony while you were out?"

"No. He's still in recovery. I just…" He shrugged. "Got tired, I guess."

Ducky nodded, and together with his friend, they traveled to Tony's room together.

"Took you long enough." Tony grumbled at Gibbs as the men walked through the room. "You didn't answer your phone, and I was worried."

"I'm fine. Don't worry, you're the one with the stitches."

"Yeah, yeah." Tony relaxed into his bed.

##############

Gibbs woke, completely confused. Tony'd come home from the hospital the day before. That he could remember. But something was off. What, was the question.

"Gibbs?" Tony's voice was riddled with pain. "You're scaring me." There was a gentle push to his leg, which normally would have had him jolted awake. Now, he barely registered what it was though the fog of his mind.

Tony's concern grew as Gibbs seemed to struggle with understanding what he was saying. After another two minutes, he gave up trying to rouse Gibbs and called Ducky. There was something terribly wrong with his partner.

"Ah, Anthony! I'm surprised that you're calling me! Is everything alright?"

"No." He nearly sobbed out the words, between pain and fear. "There's something wrong with Gibbs. Need you to come."

"Anthony, when was the last time you had your pain medications?"

"Not sure." He gasped. "But I hurt. And something's wrong with Gibbs. I need you to come."

"Alright, dear boy. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

Ducky washed up, giving instructions to Palmer to finish up as he grabbed his jacket and keys.

"I don't know how long I'll be, Mr. Palmer." He dressed quickly as the younger man took over his former position, including chatting to the body currently splayed open on the table.

"You know, Mr. Oppenheimer, there was a time when Tony and Gibbs would have been back in the bull-pen only a day or two after a shooting like this. Now, they require help." Palmer shook his head. "This is a definite sign that the world is either coming to an end, or things are far more serious than I have been led to believe."

Ducky smiled a bit as the doors closed behind him. He'd taught his young protégé well.

###########

"Anthony? Jethro?" Ducky called as he trotted up the stairs.

"We're up here." Tony's voice was still clouded with pain.

"What seems to be the problem?"

"I can't wake him up." Tony glanced at Gibbs. "He's just not…"

"Oh, dear." Ducky quickly opened the bottle of pills on the night stand, helping Anthony sit up enough for a drink. The younger man swallowed greedily before laying back down, allowing the elderly doctor to move over to Gibbs.

"Jethro?" Ducky sat on the side of the bed next to Gibbs, patting his face. Gibbs' eyes opened, yet remained unfocused. "I'm going to shine a light in your eyes, Jethro."  
As he spoke, he felt Gibbs' pulse. His pulse seemed normal, that was a relief at least.

"Anthony? I know that it's difficult, but can you please call 911?" Tony nodded, flipping his cell phone open as he flinched in pain.

"Alright, Jethro, your pulse and blood pressure seem normal, but I'm going to check your retinal reflexes." Gibbs looked at Ducky, as if he was struggling to understand the words.

Ducky shone the light in Gibbs' eyes, and was relieved when his pupils dilated and retracted as they should have.

"Can you follow the light?" He moved it first to the left, and then to the right. Gibbs eyes sluggishly followed before he closed them.

While Tony stayed on the phone with dispatch, Ducky attempted to finish his basic check of Gibbs. Everything seemed to be normal, which was not fitting with the symptoms being shown.

The ambulance arrived, and Tony started to rise, wanting to accompany his partner to the hospital.

"Oh, no, young man." Ducky sat him back down. "You're in no shape to go anywhere."

"I'm goin' with him, Duck."

"No, you're staying here. I'll call Abby, and have her come to keep you company."

The paramedics exchanged a look. This place looked like an infirmary. They hated calls like this. It was bad enough that doctors prescribed too many pain-killers, but it got worse when they had to come and pick up someone like this.

########

"Well, his MRI's show spotty damage." The ER doctor rubbed his forehead. "It's not a stroke, but it's something similar."

"Cerebellar Ataxia?" Ducky's eyes widened.

"In a word, yes." The doctor sighed, showing Ducky several spots on Gibbs MRI. "These, on his frontal lobe, are causing Dysdiadochokinesia, as is evidenced by his difficulty with speech." Ducky shook his head, not wanting to accept what he was being shown. "Along with the difficulty of comprehending what is being said to him, and finding words to reply with, he's dealing with dysarthria. This may be short-term, or it may be permanent." The doctor shrugged. "There's just no telling at this point."

"Do you have any idea of what may have caused the CA?"

"No." The two men exchanged glances. "There's evidence that this has been going on in smaller instances over an extended period of time. I've not been able to find a reason for his sudden decline, or why he's been having the issue in the first place."

Ducky began to ask questions regarding blood-work and EKG's, and the results were all "normal". Yet the fact that his friend was in such dire straights was anything but normal.

"He came to me several weeks ago, complaining of dyssynergia. I assumed it was exhaustion. They'd been working a rather difficult case. I ran a full battery of tests, and nothing came back out of the ordinary." Ducky pinched the bridge of his nose. "I should have looked more intently."

"With the sporadic nature of his ataxia, it would have been difficult, if not impossible to identify it before."

"I had to miss something."

"He probably didn't give you the full list of symptoms. He's most likely been going downhill for some time, but hasn't realized the full extent of his issues." The two doctors stood looking at the pictures of the agent's brain. "We'll need to get a full description of his life and activities over the past few months to find out what went wrong, and when."

"For that information, we may be best asking his life partner." The ER doctor nodded. "I have some things in his file that I've noticed, such as weight gain and reported headaches. But I do believe Tony will be able to better answer our questions."

"When will he get here?"

"He is unfortunately recovering from surgery." Ducky sighed. "He was injured during a case, and I asked him to stay home to rest. I suppose I should go question young Anthony."

"Young?" The doctor quirked an eyebrow.

"Young for me." Ducky smiled. "He's nearly forty."

########

Tony was in bed, fretting despite Abby's attempts to calm him. When he heard the door close, he all but begged Abby to go down and see how Gibbs was.

"He'll be up here in just a minute, Tony."

"I don't care!" Tony's voice carried his desperation. "Just go, Abs, please?"

Even though she rolled her eyes, she stood, agreeing to go. Her steps faltered when she saw Ducky standing in the door…alone.

Tony felt his mouth go dry.

"Where's Gibbs?" His voice sounded weak, nearly pathetic, even to his ears.

"He's still in the hospital, my boy." Ducky's voice was calm. "I need to ask you a few questions."

"What sort of questions?" Tony felt tears fill his eyes. "What's going on?"

"Jethro has suffered through something called cerebellar ataxia." He looked Tony directly in the eyes as he spoke, his voice gentle. "It's something that can mimic a stroke, but it differs in how it affects the brain."

"Oh my…." Tony started to sit up. "Get me my pants, Abby."

"Hold on, Anthony." Ducky sat down at the end of the bed, a previously ignored notebook in his hands along with a pen. "I need to ask you some questions regarding his behavior over the past few months before we go anywhere."

"Like hell!"

"Anthony." Ducky's voice was calm. "Jethro is stable. The doctors need more to work with in regards to his care, and I want to ask you questions here before we travel anywhere."

"Why?" Tony's eyes narrowed. There was something the older man wasn't telling him.

"Anthony, just trust me to know that between your care for Jethro, your pain, and the ride to the hospital, that my questions will be better answered before we leave."

"You'd better not be hiding something from me." Tony sounded like a petulant child.

Ducky sighed. "The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner we can go." The men stared one another down as Abby chewed her lip and twisted her fingers in the doorway.

"I'm gonna go downstairs and wait." Her voice shook. "Unless you…"

"Go ahead, Abs." Tony slid his eyes over to her. "Make sure everything's turned off and locked, cuz as soon as I'm done answering, I want to be in the car."

"'k." Abby fairly bounded down the stairs, checking the back door, making sure the basement light was off, and gathering the few belongings she'd set on the dining room table when she'd come in. She had nothing to do now but wait.

Upstairs, Ducky sat with his pen poised, and Tony continued glaring.

"What do you want to know?"

"How has he been these last few months?" Ducky motioned with his head. "Such as, has he been losing hair, has he slept more? What about his appetite?"

"You know he's gained weight." Ducky nodded. "Funny thing is; he's eating less."

"What has he been eating when he does eat?"

"Simple stuff. Toast, eggs, that sort of thing. He can't seem to stomach a real meal." Ducky nodded for Tony to continue as he made notes.

"He falls asleep almost as soon as we're home." Ducky's eyebrows rose. "I mean, he's not even been down to work on the boat in almost three weeks. It's not that he doesn't want to, but it's like he's too tired to get up the stairs, change, and then go back down them."

"What about muscle weakness?"

"Well, the last time we sparred, he wasn't throwing hard punches in training."

"How would you describe his punches?"

"Like he was pulling them. He said he wasn't, but it felt like he was barely tapping me when he hit me. And one good hit to his stomach had him down." Tony shrugged. "He threw up that night, so I figured it was the stomach bug that's been going around."

"What else, Anthony? What about his running habits?"

"He's not really gone running much." Tony's voice was soft. "He's been so tired, that I've let him sleep through our morning runs."

"What else?" Ducky looked up at the younger man. "Even small things matter, my boy."

"Well, he's been losing some hair."

"How much?"

"Um, he's got some spots that are almost bald. Not in the usual "guy" spots, but he's thinning out in places. It's splotchy."

"Hm." Ducky made more notes as he scribbled as fast as Tony spoke.

"He…" Tony swallowed hard. "He had his blood pressure checked one day while we were out, cuz his vision blurred. But it was normal." Tony's eyes were tortured. "That's why he's not been driving. His vision has gone out from time to time, but there's nothing wrong. He even went for his physical. They didn't find anything."

"Anthony, what about your, um, bedroom activities?"

Tony grimaced. "There's been a dearth of anything fun in this room for weeks, Ducky. We started to get there one night, and he," Tony rolled his eyes, angry at himself for still being upset. "He fell asleep."

"He was aroused and fell asleep?"

"Yeah. He rolled over to get the lube, and he was out."

"How has he been sleeping?"

"Fitfully." Tony rubbed his hands over his face. "I should have picked up on this sooner, shouldn't I?"

"Anthony, hair loss, fitful sleep during a case that involves a grizzly murder, these are all normal. There is nothing that you should have seen. His physical revealed nothing, and if myself and another physician couldn't see the problem brewing, do not blame yourself."

Tony nodded, wiping tears from his eyes.

"Can we go now?"

"If you agree to take some motrin before we start out, yes."

"Whatever. Hand me my pants."

################

It seemed to take hours to make the twenty minute drive to Bethesda. Tony chaffed and fretted, Abby chewed her lip between mutterings of "positive thoughts, only positive thoughts", while Ducky fought the urge to blare his horn and run red lights, simply to escape the nervous energy of his two companions.

Gibbs had been moved from the ER to a room in the ICU. Tony was ushered into a wheelchair, glaring at Ducky for insisting that he ride.

"You'll be in far too much pain by the time you walk there, Anthony. Do be a good boy and sit."

Abby took the handles of the chair from Ducky and began to walk quickly down the hall. Once they reached the unit, she stepped aside, letting Ducky take over pushing her friend.

"Ducky?" She spoke directly to the older man for the first time since he'd arrived at the house.

"Yes, Abigail?"

"Tell me as soon as you know anything?" He nodded and pressed a kiss to her cheek before pushing Tony down the hall and into Gibbs' room.

Somehow, knowing all that he did about his lovers' condition, he still wasn't prepared for the sight before him. Gibbs was asleep, at least he looked it at first. Only the unsteady rise and fall of his chest gave away the fact that he was awake. Ducky locked the wheels on the chair, allowing Tony to safely stand.

He walked to Jethro's side, and took the man's hand in his own.

"Hey, Boss." Pain filled eyes gazed up into his own. "If you wanted a vacation, all you had to do was ask."

A tear slid down Tony's face as the realization hit him. What Ducky'd told him was true. Gibbs' language centers had been hit, and he just wasn't understanding. The older man squeezed his hand a bit, and Tony smiled gently.

"Don't worry, I'm here." He squeezed back a bit. "I'm here, and I still love you."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Don't own it, make no money from it. Tis sad, but true.

Note: Thanks to Headbanger Rockstar, my fabulous beta!

Note: Thanks to EVERYONE who has favorited, alerted, and reviewed! I'm still catching up on reviews, so if I've not responded, I shall, as quickly as I can!

#############

Tony sat by Gibbs' side as they watched the tech drawing yet another vial of blood.

"What's this test for?"

"This is a vitamin panel." She looked over to the sheet she had next to her. "I'll be taking another, and that's going to test his cholesterol levels."

"He just had all of that done." The tech nodded.

"I know. But in cases like this, we'd rather do our work again, and make sure we've not missed anything."

"You guys miss stuff often?" Tony's voice was a mix of disbelief and hope.

"Not really, but his doctor orders the tests, we run them." She gently withdrew the needle, keeping pressure on the puncture area. She shook the vial, getting the heparin mixed into the blood, guaranteeing that the blood wouldn't coagulate and be useless in the lab.

Moments after she left, another tech came in, just as cheery and annoying as the first.

"Good morning, Agent Gibbs." Gibbs just glowered at her. It'd be a better morning if they'd given him coffee. Two days in this joint, and so far he'd choked on his coffee once, had trouble swallowing orange juice, and had nearly regurgitated mashed potatoes…while trying to swallow.

"I know, I know. You've not had breakfast yet, but I'm gonna get some tests done, so we can rectify that, ok?" Gibbs just rolled his eyes. Like he had a choice.

"What will you be doing? Can I come?" Tony stood, ignoring the pain that stitched his side.

"Well, not really." She looked apologetic for a moment. "We're going to do a CT scan of his chest cavity, and a barium swallow test, to see if we can't find out why he's having trouble swallowing."

"Oh, he's gonna love that." Gibbs signed to Tony, knowing the younger man wasn't fluent enough to understand what he was saying exactly, but the gist was caught.

_Don't talk about me like I'm not here._ At least some of his understanding was back, even if his speech hadn't totally followed suit yet. That gave Tony more hope than he was willing to admit.

As he watched his lover being wheeled from the room, Tony sank back into his chair and leaned his head back, going over everything that'd happened in the last 48 short hours.

"_If he's not had a stroke, then what the hell happened?" Tony turned teary eyes toward Ducky._

"_Parts of his brain were affected in the same way a stroke would affect."_

"_So what does that mean?"_

"_Some of his brain cells were attacked by something." The older ME came to stand on Gibbs' other side. "He has suffered some cell die-off, but in many cases of ataxia, the effects are temporary."_

"_His brain cells are dying?" Tony felt his knees start to shake._

"_Only a few, and we're working to find the cause of the illness, Anthony." Ducky walked around the bed and pushed a chair behind Tony, guiding him gently down into it before he fell. "The cells that have died have done so in a splatter pattern, much like a shot-gun blast at a barn wall. They're not in large lumps or groups, like a stroke would be. Instead, they're…"_

"_A little all over. I got it." Tony snapped out in anger, feeling remorseful as soon as he let the words leave his mouth. "I'm sorry, Ducky. I shouldn't get mad at you."_

"_I can understand your pain, dear boy, but yes, please refrain from killing the messenger."_

"_Any ideas yet of what's causing it?"_

"_None so far, I'm afraid. We're going over test results again." The older man sighed. I can tell you, however, that his heart is in wonderful shape, his arteries are flexible and his cholesterol is remarkably low for someone his age. Those things will help in his recovery."_

"_Is he gonna be like this forever?" Tony's hand tightened on Gibbs' once more._

"_Not unless something unusual happens." Ducky squeezed his shoulder. "The good thing about cerebellar ataxia is that the damage is often routed around."_

"_Routed around? What do you mean?"_

"_Well, in a stroke, the person's brain is often catastrophically damaged in one area or another."_

Tony didn't realize how long he'd been lost in thought, but before he would have thought possible, Gibbs was being wheeled back in.

"Hey! How'd it go?" Gibbs rolled his eyes, and the tech chuckled.

"Well, we found out he's not a fan of barium."

"Any news on what's going on?"

"Not yet." The tech smiled. "I'm just a tech. The doctor will be in tomorrow with the results."

Tony hung his head for a moment. Gibbs was so much better at scaring answers out of technicians.

"Well, can you tell me anything?"

"Nope." She smiled sweetly. "And I've been warned about you two, so no trying to get answers out of me, either." Gibbs glared at her as she helped him into bed and readjusted his covers. "Sorry, guys. I can't tell you anything."

With that, she breezed out the door, taking all hopes of some early diagnoses with her.

Gibbs had barely settled back into his bed when his breakfast arrived via an overly cheerful volunteer. He wondered for a moment why _all_ volunteers seemed to feel that those in need of medical services needed to be cheered to the point of health. If laughing would do it, then why not stick on hours of the comic greats?

"Good morning, Agent Gibbs!" The young man's smile was trying to be infectious, but was only succeeding in being annoying. "I've got your breakfast for you! Sorry to take so long, but those nasty tests." He nodded to himself, as if his words were of great import. "I can only imagine how gross that stuff must be. Hopefully, this will help, though."

With great polish, he whipped off the lid to the orange and white breakfast dish. Tony rolled his eyes, even as Gibbs' glare threatened to melt the young man through the floor.

"If you need anything else, I'll be around in a bit." He smiled from one man to the other, seeming to not notice the irritated looks. "Enjoy!" With that, he breezed out the door.

"Well, isn't he a bundle of joy?" Gibbs snorted, poking at his somewhat chilly eggs. One thing he never got about hospital food: They put it into little personal insulated containers that really didn't work, and then expected you to eat it and get healthy from chilled, bacteria growing-due-to-unsafe-temperature foods.

As Tony tried to get Gibbs to eat some of his meal, Ducky came in, chattering away with one of the orderlies as he entered.

"Ah! Jethro! Anthony! How are you gentlemen this morning?"

"I'm sore, and he's ready to go home. Well, then again, so am I."

"If I recall correctly, Anthony, I did tell you that you were supposed to go home and rest. Or have you forgotten that you were recently in the hospital yourself?"

"Not forgotten, Ducky." Tony grasped Gibbs' hand. "Just refusing to leave until he does."

Ducky smiled patiently as he shook his head. Trying to get the two of these men to take proper care of themselves should be an official position at NCIS, complete with hazard pay.

"Has the doctor been in yet this morning?"

"Just to order tests, and we're waiting until tomorrow for the answers."

"Ah. May I ask what tests exactly?" Ducky asked even as he flipped through the chart hanging at the end of Gibbs' bed.

"Some swallowing test, and they drew blood. Stuff like that."

"It's a bit more technical than that, I'm afraid." Ducky looked up. "These tests, especially the Barium Swallow test, may show more issues than originally known." He looked evenly at Gibbs, not sparing any words or feelings. "The very fact that they did a CT scan of your digestive tract along with the MRI of your brain is concerning."

Tony felt his heart sink, and looked over at Gibbs. The man was stone-faced. The fact that he showed no emotion whatsoever was more frightening than anything Ducky was saying.

"What do you think is going on, Ducky?" Tony's voice shook when he finally found it.

"I don't even have a clue at this point, Anthony. I wish I did. The only thing I can tell you for certain is that the ataxia is random enough that you should be able to regain your speech, Jethro. Your brain may take a while to rebuild the synapses and networks, but there are enough undamaged cells in each section of your brain to allow for the rebuilding."

"That's good, right?"

"That's very good, Anthony."

Gibbs made the motion for pen and paper, and Tony grabbed his sketch pad from his go-bag along with a pen. Jethro took them and began to write. Within seconds, his face turned into a mask of horror and disgust as he threw the items across the road.

Tony was up in a flash, his arms wrapping around his lover.

"Trouble writing, huh?" Gibbs nodded, tears finally making their way down his face. He allowed himself one gasped sob before forcing himself to settle down.

"I'm not going to tell you to not worry, Jethro, but I will tell you that I'm not leaving."

_You should go._ Gibbs signed his phrase, and Tony took a moment to remember what the signs were. He wished he'd started learning sooner. _I'm no good._

"You're going to be fine, Gibbs." Tony's voice was sympathetic. "Sure, you've having a hard time right now, but we're going to get you better. I promise."

#######

The night seemed endless as Tony sat by Gibbs. The older man had fallen asleep not long after Ducky left, and hadn't roused for the rest of the day. By the time dawn came, and the doctors were making their rounds, Tony was nearing panic. He'd run scenario after scenario through his mind, and each had been worse than the last.

"Good morning, Agent DiNozzo." Doctor Mark Campos stood in the door. "He's sleeping peacefully?"

"Well, he's sleeping." Tony shrugged. "I'd not really call it peaceful."

"Hm." Campos flipped open Gibbs' chart. "I'd come back, but I've got to get into the office on time today." He spoke a little louder, hoping to rouse Gibbs. Tony shook his shoulder a bit, and Jethro opened his eyes slowly.

"You with us?" Gibbs blinked a couple of times, trying to clear his mind. He hadn't been dreaming, he was sure of that. Or he was pretty sure, but it was as if he hadn't existed a few seconds ago. He'd been somewhere…non-existent.

"This is common with his condition." Campos hoped his words would calm Tony a bit. "The confusion will pass once his brain begins to reform synapses."

"How long with that be?"

"That depends on how soon we can find the cause of the problem."

"You don't know yet?"

"Not yet, but we've got a handle on some of the other issues making his life difficult."

"Such as?"

"Such as the test he did yesterday morning shows that he's aspirating liquids, such as water and coffee. The other group he seems to be struggling with is soft food of the mashed potato consistency. So for a while, we'll thicken his drinks a bit, and we'll be sure to serve him foods that are firmer."

"And what about the other tests?"

"Well, some of the tests I ran showed that his ANA's are high, indicating that he has an autoimmune illness of some sort. I'm going to have a rheumatologist run some tests, and find out if we're dealing with something of that nature."

"And what if it is something like that?"

"Then we'll treat that individual illness, and hopefully, we'll get good results."

"In other words, you're sure that he's fixable, but you're not sure how."

Dr. Campos thought for a moment before speaking.

"I'm reasonably certain that we can at least control whatever the problem is. I'm not willing, at this point, to guarantee a full recovery. I don't want to give either of you false hope."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS, the blood tests mentioned in this chapter, or anything else I've forgotten to mention. I own my dog. I do own that much.

Note: Sorry to have taken so long to get this chapter up. My computer bit the dust, and I just got a new one. Sad, expensive times.

Note: Special thanks to my wonderful beta, Headbanger Rockstar. Love you! Ptbbbbbbbbbbbb!

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Tony sat next to Gibbs, waiting patiently for his lover to get out the word he was stuck on. His speech had indeed begun to return, but it was halted and slow. Gibbs' frustration wasn't unexpected, but Tony felt guilty every time he had to sit and let Gibbs struggle. Jethro had already begun to glare at Tony every time the younger man supplied a word. In many ways, Gibbs now resembled a child stuck in the "Me do it" stage.

The synapses in Gibbs' brain had indeed begun to reform and heal to the best of their ability, despite days with serious set-backs. He seemed to do better when he skipped the breads and breakfast cereals and stayed with fruits, vegetables, and meats. The doctors discounted he and Tony's observations, but the men kept track of how he did, and what he ate on his good days.

He'd stayed in the hospital for two weeks that first time, leaving when he was "better", yet still not being anywhere close to a diagnosis. Both men felt as if they were running into a brick wall.

Either doctors' looked at the middle-aged man before them and assumed he'd been a heavy drinker, thus his problems, or they assumed he was turning into a hypochondriac, making up symptoms as he went along. It seemed there wasn't a single doctor who believed anything either of them said with the exception of Ducky, and the man had been so busy with his job at NCIS, that he'd literally been unable to help with Gibbs' health as much as he'd have liked to.

"Two months." Gibbs spoke the words slowly. "Still not an idea of what's wrong."

"I know." Tony wrapped his arm around him, pulling the older man to him. "We'll figure it out, though. I promise. We'll keep looking for a doctor…"

"What if it happens again?" The desperation and fear in Jethro's voice brought tears to Tony's eyes. "Healing this time. What about next?"

"I don't know." Tony pressed his lips to Gibbs temple. "I don't know."

Silence filled the room as they pondered the future. Gibbs felt insecure, as if he should just tell Tony to move on with his life. Tony, for his part, wondered what he'd do when and if Gibbs wasn't able to be at home anymore. Would he be able to watch his lover die slowly? Was that what their future held? If so, was he man enough for it? Tony sighed, not sure if he was. One thing was certain, however, and that was the fact that he'd never leave Gibbs, even if he himself was a shell of a man when it was all over.

An hour passed in what seemed like moments. Tony yawned, rubbing Gibbs' shoulder.

"What do you want for dinner?"

"Don't know." Gibbs shrugged. "Not hungry."

"Maybe not, but we need to eat. How about steak and potatoes?"

"Ok." Tony leaned into Gibbs and kissed him playfully. "Want to get the fire going, or do you want me to grill them?"

"Fire." Jethro smiled back. "But you cook them. Not sure I can."

"No problem." With a squeak caused by Jethro pinching his ass as he stood, Tony headed to the kitchen. He'd toss the potatoes in the oven before he got the fire started.

When he left the room, Gibbs reached out and grabbed the handles of the walker that had been set to the side of their couch. He hated the thing, but it was a necessary evil, and hopefully a temporary one at that. He'd been doing better, and had been told that if he kept improving, that he'd graduate to a cane. That thought alone gave him hope that he was indeed making progress of some kind.

Jethro moved slowly across the living room, making sure to plant his feet properly before taking the next step. He'd already fallen once that week, and his knees were still sore from the impact. He grumbled to his body about its behavior as he headed to the box that held old newspapers and small bits of wood. He knew he wasn't thinking clearly enough to make the fire, but he could gather the necessary supplies.

"Such a damned mess."

"What's that, Gibbs?" Tony caught the glare Gibbs sent him. "Talking to yourself. Fine." Tony smirked and went back to scrubbing the tubers he'd placed in the sink.

Tony and Gibbs cuddled on the couch while the steaks sizzled, all the while Gibbs griped about never admitting that he'd ever cuddle with anyone.

"Sure, Boss, you never cuddle." Tony grinned, knowing he was in for a head-slap, or at least an elbow to the gut. "This isn't cuddling. Nope. This is a full-on snuggle." Sure enough, his hand flew to his gut seconds later as he exhaled with an exaggerated "oof".

A playful scuffle began, with both men pushing and ribbing the other. Several of the intended jabs lasted longer than they were supposed to, turning instead into quick caresses meant to arouse the other.

"Hey, hey!" Tony backed away, his hands held up in a gesture of peace. "Don't mess with the cook!"

"You started it." Gibbs grinned back, not even trying to hide his amusement.

"Yes, and now, unless we want burned steaks, I need to finish it."

"Not for long, I hope."

"Oh, no." Tony leaned in, kissing his partner thoroughly. "Just until dinner's over. And then?" He openly leered down Gibbs' body. "You're mine."

Gibbs sat back, watching Tony as the younger man cooked the steaks in the same way he had done them for years. Once they were nearly done, Tony rose from his knees and headed to the dining room to set the table. Even though he'd never admit to having trouble, Tony had seen how much Gibbs had struggled the last time they ate at the low table. From then on, he'd always made sure of having the table set and ready by the time their meal was ready.

"Dinner's ready, Babe." Gibbs rolled his eyes. "What, don't like being called Babe?"

"Not when you've called me Boss in the last five minutes."

Tony laughed as he set the plate of steaks on the table. He watched Gibbs stand up, always nervous, even though he knew the man could do it on his own. Once Gibbs was on his way, Tony began to cut up the first steak.

He'd barely slid it onto Gibbs' plate when the older man arrived at the table. He sat down gingerly, making sure the chair was really behind him completely. Judging distances had become hard, and more than once, he'd nearly fallen. Tonight wasn't a night to ruin with misjudged distances.

"Sorry I can't do this." Gibbs motioned to his cut steak.  
"Don't worry about it." Tony winked. "I'll make you pay me back later."

"Seriously, Tony, this isn't much of an anniversary. I'm sorry."

"Hm." Tony pretended to think for a moment. "Having to cut up your steaks, or having you in a rest home, or worse, gone." He nodded, meeting Gibbs eyes, all humor gone. "I'll cut your steaks for the rest of my life if I get to spend it with you."

Gibbs lowered his eyes, not sure he could handle the emotions coursing through him. He cursed his frail brain and body once more, along with the synapses that were still reforming, throwing his emotions all out of whack.

A hand settled on the back of his neck, and Gibbs looked up once again.

"Come on, let's eat, handsome." Tony's eyes sparkled with humor as Gibbs grinned involuntarily. "Like that, do you?"

"It's better than Babe." Gibbs tried to wink, which came across as a slow blink of both eyes, but Tony understood.

############

They laid in bed, holding and touching, neither one being overly excited. Gibbs was tiring quickly, and Tony wanted to pleasure his love as much as he could without wearing him out. When it became obvious that he was having trouble coordinating his hands and brain, Tony yawned, giving Gibbs an out.

Jethro wrapped his arms around Tony, knowing exactly what his lover was doing. He was torn between feeling terrible for not being more awake and energetic, and being grateful for a partner who understood.

"Let's get your mask on you." Tony reached up and pulled down the CPAP mask that had become a nightly necessity only weeks before. He helped Jethro wrap it around his head, fastening the plastic hooks, as he knew that with Gibbs' current state of incoordination he'd not get it on properly.

Jethro settled back onto his pillow, with Tony curling into his side, his head pressed against the silver hair on the older man's chest. Gibbs sighed in contentment as he felt sleep begin to pull at him. He felt Tony's fingers stroking his chest, and the sensation relaxed him further. Moments, later, he was asleep.

Tony rose up on his elbow, looking down Gibbs. The man had always been so strong. He was still strong, but his strength was being tested. Yes, things were tough, and he wasn't sure they'd ever get better. Even knowing that, he had confidence that he was right where he belonged. This man was his life, his love, his joy. Sickness and weakness wasn't about to change that.

With the dawn, Tony was awake and planning the day. He'd called the little marina at the state park earlier in the week, and was now wondering if he'd made the wrong decision. He debated changing their plans, but he decided against it, knowing how much Gibbs had been looking forward to being on the lake.

Gibbs had had a rough night, needing to get up several times, and once, he'd had a terrible nightmare, but couldn't remember what it was about when he tried to tell Tony. He'd finally given in and taken the clonazepam Tony offered to him, swallowing the pill with a bit of water from the bottle that was now stationed at the side of their bed.

Once the medicine had kicked in, Jethro had slept well, and Tony was loathe to wake him up. However, they needed to be at the marina in two hours if they were going to get their rented boat. Tony swore to himself as he debated. He wondered what Gibbs needed more: a day being "normal", or sleep.

He was spared making the decision as the whoosh of air that always came with the removal of Gibbs' CPAP filled the air. He heard a groan, and headed to the bedroom, afraid that he'd find his partner having a bad day already.

"Man with baseball…" Gibbs' voice trailed off as he searched for the next word he wanted to say. He gave up a moment later, shrugging, an embarrassed smile on his face.

"The guy with the invisible baseball bat get you again?"

"Yeah." The word was slurred slightly, and Tony furrowed his brow.

"You up for sailing? We can…"

"Wanna go." Gibbs' eyes filled involuntarily with tears, and he put his hands over his face. Tony was at his side in moments, comforting the older man.

"Then we'll go." Gibbs nodded, still not looking up. "I'm thinking you should probably take another clonazepam." Another nod, as Gibbs took the second pill offered. He and Tony had begun to joke about them being his "don't freak out pills", and times like this drove that embarrassing truth home.

Tony stayed seated for a few minutes before standing and putting Gibbs' walker in front of him.

"Come on, Hop-a-long. Got a big day ahead of us."

"Not Hop-a-long." Gibbs smirked.

"Ok, then, Lurch!" Tony jumped out of the way as Gibbs tried to smack his head. He winked unrepentantly at his boyfriend as he headed out the bedroom door. "I'm gonna go get breakfast ready. Want to do a picnic today, or eat out?"

Gibbs thought for a moment. "Eat out. Picnic tables and me, not a good idea."

"Restaurant it is." Tony grinned. "Easier on me, I like it!" He whistled as he strode down the hall, leaving Gibbs to wonder what he'd done to deserve a man like Tony.

Two and a half hours later, Tony made sure their life vests were properly secured before motioning to the marina staff that they were ready to go. He knew how to sail a small daysailor like this, but they had to follow the rules, some of which seemed crazy. One of those irritating rules was that they had to be launched from the dock by a member of the staff. Gibbs grinned, knowing that Tony could handle this better than the kid launching them, but he kept silent, enjoying Tony's ire.

"Next time, you're gonna be able to help, and we'll load up your boat and do some real sailing." Tony grinned back to Jethro as he steered them out of the docks.

"Hope so."

"I know so." Tony let the sail out a bit more before continuing. "I don't wanna go through that hassle again." Gibbs laughed loud and long. Tony smiled, pleased at the noise that he'd missed so much.

Jethro sat back, quietly enjoying the scenery, the fresh air, and most of all, Tony's company. They had been quiet since leaving the marina, but that wasn't a problem. Gibbs spoke with silence, and Tony had learned to listen to it. Neither of them felt the need to fill the air with sounds. The silence spoke volumes.

They sailed past a few picnic areas, and Gibbs noted that they were all full of children. While he'd have normally not cared, the past few months had left him not desiring to be near children. They were noisy, rambunctious, and despite their cuteness, usually ended up knocking him over unintentionally.

Another few minutes passed, and they were out into the open waters of the lake. Yes, it wasn't an ocean, or even a great lake, but it was a couple of miles across, and large enough to find space where they weren't pressed in with other boaters. When they were far enough out, Tony dropped the sail, virtually stopping the boat. He tossed out the weight that was meant to serve as an anchor, and secured the helm.

"Gonna sit here a few, Gibbs. You ok with that?" Jethro responded by holding out his hand, more than ready for company on the bench seat.

"Good day. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Tony laced their fingers together, joining Gibbs in staring out at the softly undulating waters before them. "Been thinking, Jethro."

"That's dangerous."

"Yeah, maybe." He brought Gibbs' hand to his mouth, kissing it lightly. "Don't think it is this time, though."

"No? What're you thinking then?" Tony cleared his throat, seemingly nervous.

"Today's our anniversary, well, yesterday, but we've got the full day together today." Gibbs nodded. "So I'm thinking it's time for a change in our relationship." Gibbs felt his mouth go dry. This is what he'd feared. "Hey, you with me?" Tony turned toward him, concern flooding his features. "Do you need to go back? Are you hurting?" Gibbs shook his head, wishing he was anywhere besides here. He didn't want to have their relationship end this way.

"You're upset." Tony wrapped his arms around Gibbs. "Probably because I'm screwing this up." He dropped to the floor of the craft, Gibbs hand still held tightly in his.

"Jethro, I want you to know that I love you." Gibbs felt his heart begin to beat again. "I wanted to do something today, not just because you need to feel normal, or because you needed to get out, but because I could be with you, whatever we did. If we'd stayed home because you needed to sleep, I'd have been just as happy." He ducked his head for a moment, hoping he didn't sound like some overly emotional girl.

"I know we talked about taking the plunge before, and we decided to not get married." Gibbs nodded, he remembered that conversation. "Well, I guess what I'm trying to say is that while I may never be your husband, I want to commit to you, Gibbs. I'm promising that until our lives end, I'm yours." He stopped, not sure of what else to say.

He waited for what seemed to be an eternity. Finally, Gibbs leaned forward, his lips meeting Tony's in a gentle kiss. Tony rose to the seat once more as their kiss turned passionate. When they broke for air, Gibbs settled his head onto Tony's shoulder, breathing in the man's scent.

"Love you, DiNozzo."

They floated on the waters for a while longer before deciding to call it a day. The trip home seemed to take longer than the trip there had, but Gibbs wasn't altogether sure it wasn't his impatience. After all, a day on the water was wonderful. An evening at home with the man he loved was priceless.

##########

Tony groaned early the next morning when his phone rang. He grumbled as he extricated himself from Gibbs' limbs, griping about still having a week off on his medical leave.

"DiNozzo." Tony yawned as he stepped into the hall.

"Ah, good morning, Anthony!" Ducky's chipper voice rang across the line. "I do apologize for calling this early, but I have some rather interesting tidbits to share with you."

"What sort of tidbits?"

"Well, I hadn't thought of it earlier, and for that I apologize, but I remembered late last night about a doctor who was doing research in blood testing to find not only allergies, but also intolerances."

"Ok, so why's this important?"

"There is a lot of research going on with how blood reacts to toxins, Anthony." Ducky's voice sounded annoyingly patient. "While there seems to be no outward signs that Jethro has a problem, he certainly does. I am wondering if he has a severe issue with foods or other chemicals."

"He's had allergy testing, Ducky."

"Yes, my boy, but this isn't for allergies. This is testing for intolerances, which affect the blood differently than an allergy would."

"Wait, so there's a difference?"

"Yes, a large one, in fact." Ducky took a deep breath before launching into an explanation fraught with tales and medical jargon that the younger man didn't try to understand. Ducky told Tony how intolerances wouldn't show up as allergies, but in fact caused a malfunction, and sometimes even death in blood cells. He described in great detail the tests which could be performed through blood work to see if someone was indeed intolerant to something.

"So, this Immuno Bloodprint test may help?"

"Well, it can't hurt, Anthony. I'm not promising anything, but I do believe that every option, including the ones that are off the beaten path need to be explored."

"Right." Tony nodded as he flipped on his computer. "Is there any one company you would recommend?"

"Well, there are several that are reputable. I suggest you find the best price, and go from there."

"Thanks, Ducky."

"You're very welcome, Anthony, and I hope this will be helpful."

"Anything is helpful at this point." The old ME bid him a good day, and ended the call.

When Gibbs woke two hours later, he found Tony engrossed in the computer, papers printing off as he hummed. Jethro walked to Tony's side, looking down at the glowing screen.

"What ya lookin' at?"

"Ducky called, and he's got an idea." Tony's eyes shone with hope. "Need to get dressed, so we can go meet him at the yard. He's gonna draw some blood."

"Had tests." Gibbs shook his head. "No more."

"Just a few more, please?" Tony stood, meeting Gibbs' eyes. "There's more research going on all the time with stuff, and if this pans out, it could mean great things. Please?" Gibbs took a deep breath and nodded. He was over with being a pin cushion, but if it would bring him healing, he'd try it.

Two weeks later, Tony and Gibbs nearly shouted with relief as they were presented the results of Gibbs' tests. Gibbs was not allergic to anything, if you went with the clinical definition of allergic, but his body was rejecting several things he'd eaten for years.

First on the list was grain. His blood had experienced "fatal" reactions when combined with every grain that was tested. Wheat, oat, rice, corn, and the list went on. The tests showed that dairy caused "moderate to severe" damage to the blood cells, while most seeds were safe. The list went on and on, listing over 150 foods, some of which Gibbs had never tried, and were safe, and some that he'd eaten on a regular basis and were "dangerous" to his system.

They scheduled an appointment with his primary care doctor, and sat nervously in the office. Would he believe them now, or would they be on the hunt for a new doctor? The door creaked open, and both drew in deep breaths.

After showing the doctor the lab results, and discussing what they'd noticed when Gibbs had bread, pasta, or corn, the man reluctantly admitted that there was indeed something going on.

"You've not tested positive for Celiac's, so I'm not really understanding this." The doctor shook his head. "I'm going to refer you to a colleague of mine. He's skilled, but he believes in using natural remedies whenever possible. He's probably going to be better at helping you than I would be. If you'll wait just a minute, I'll get his number for you."

"Well, it's progress." Tony took Gibbs' hand in his own. "At least we're getting to see someone who may have an idea."

"Bout time." Gibbs frowned, thinking about how much easier it would be if the doctors had just listened in the first place. If they had, maybe he could have had this test sooner. If he had the test sooner, would he be getting better already? And if he wasn't, had the time between caused irreparable damage? With a sigh, he decided he didn't really want to know.

##########

Tony and Gibbs had cut out anything that was dangerous for Gibbs to eat from their diet, and as such, hadn't had sandwiches, lunchmeat, or the creamed corn they loved for nearly two months before they finally got into the doctor they'd been referred to.

Dr. Paulus's office was splashed with color and had a fish tank over in the corner, complete with vines "growing" from the ceiling. If they hadn't been referred to this office, they probably would have left before checking in. It seemed out of character for a doctor's office.

Tony absent-mindedly slapped his leg with the notebook he'd started keeping of Gibbs' progress. It began with the first week of his health issues, and continued to the present, including the mini-meltdown he'd had when getting ready that morning. He'd had trouble shaving, and that had resulted in a ten minute tirade on the unfairness of life and how useless he was. Tony had simply waited until he was done, knowing that it was useless to try to stop him from venting.

Gibbs picked at his nails, not sure if he wanted to get his hopes up too much. Since cutting out the things that had been harming him, he'd started to feel stronger, and his bad days weren't quite as bad. However, he knew all too well that the power of suggestion could make anything happen.

"Leroy Gibbs?" An oversized nurse stood in the door, her face all smiles. "Come on back!"

He and Tony stood, and the younger followed the older back.

"How are you today?"

"Ok." Gibbs concentrated on walking, not feeling like talking much.

"Good. Have a good drive in?" Here, she looked back to Tony, who responded that yes, they had a good drive, and that the weather was pleasant. The nurse beamed as if she'd won a contest with the nearly terse answers as she pointed to the scale where she wanted Gibbs to stand.

She weighed and measured, making Gibbs feel a bit like a child, chatting the entire time. Were they not so nervous, the men would have enjoyed her humor, as she had a dry, droll sense about her, but they were too engrossed in getting answers to pay much attention to the jokes she spouted off regarding the equipment, the color of the carpet, and finally the color of the room they found themselves in.

"Well, I'll leave you two, and the doctor should be in soon!"

"Thanks." Tony nodded as she walked out, pulling the door shut behind her.

Silence fell, until a quick knock hailed the entrance of the doctor. The man was slim, fairly short, and had wire-rimmed glasses that seemed a size too large for his face. Tony nearly grinned when he spotted the pocket protector.

"Hello, I'm Dr. Paulus." He held his hand out to Gibbs. "Thanks for sending me your results before your appointment." His eyes were sympathetic, which was a look Gibbs was tired of. "Let's take a look together, shall we?"

Gibbs was ready to walk out, if only he'd been able to stand. Had the man not looked? What was the purpose of sending results early if he wasn't going to look? He was tired of being blown off.

"I made some notes, Mr. Gibbs, excuse me, Agent Gibbs, and I think I can help you." Gibbs felt his anger dissipate.

"You can?"

"I think so." The man flipped open the file he'd come in with. "I saw that your blood shows fatal reactions when put with all of the grains, which is a good starting point." He smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Have either of you ever heard of the brain-grain connection?"

Two heads shook as he began to explain how grains can erode the protective coating around nerves, and how the "toxins" can build up in a person's system until the point of overload is reached and the body begins to break down.

"So what can we do?" Tony's voice was filled with fear.

"Well, for starters, we need to come up with a diet plan that will get you everything you need, while eliminating the harmful things." Dr. Paulus smiled at the two men, pulling a sheet of paper out of the file. "Here's a list of things you can use as flour substitutes, and on the back side, is a list of everything you should avoid in the way of food additives."

"Wow." Tony read over Gibbs' shoulder.

"There's a lot there, yes, so I'd suggest you two go as natural as you can. Stick to one-ingredient foods if you can. By that, I mean natural foods. There are some things, such as dressings, etc. that you'll need to buy, but make sure you take this list with you and stick to it. You won't notice huge changes right away, but you will notice some changes in the next few weeks."

"We've kept a notebook." Tony flipped open the cover. "Here's what's gone on in the last couple of weeks."

Dr. Paulus' eyes lit up, and he reached for it eagerly. "I like you two." He smiled. "A prepared patient is one who will take his health seriously, and that's good news for me."

He skimmed over pages, taking longer on some things than others, as he read over the past few months of the men's lives.

"You've had a rough go of it." He closed the book and handed it back. "I think judging from what you've told me, that the damage you've suffered has been over your entire brain, correct?"

"Yes." Gibbs answered quietly. "Did you see the…"

"I got it, but I wanted to focus on the results of your last test, Agent Gibbs, I apologize for that. I should have looked."

"You're helping, me, Doc." His eyes met the doctors. "Don't apologize."

"You're welcome, Agent Gibbs. I want to schedule you to meet with my dietician. I can have the front desk schedule it today, or I can give you two the number, and you can call at your leisure. Which would you prefer?"

"Can you schedule it today?"

"Sure thing." Dr. Paulus stood and opened the door. "Darlene!" A moment later, their previous acquaintance was at the door. "I need an appointment scheduled for Agent Gibbs with Michelle. Can you work on that while we finish up?"

"Sure thing!" She was off quickly, letting the doctor return to his patient.

"Ok, so we've got that in the works, and now, let's move on to questions." He smiled from one to the other. "I'm sure I've raised more questions than I've answered, so you can either ask questions now, or you can write them down, and ask them the next time."

"Um, I guess my big question is, well, why now? Why is he having trouble now, when he didn't before?"

"Good question." The man nodded slowly. "Just like allergies can develop over time, intolerances can do the same. It could be that he, you," he gestured to Gibbs, "didn't have a problem with grains ten or twenty years ago, but that the antigen built up, causing a slow slide into intolerance. There is also the chance that you've always been intolerant, and your body found ways of dealing with it before."

"How?" Gibbs was confused. How could his body have dealt with this for so many years and not have had problems before?

"Your liver could be holding on to the toxins, or perhaps the few pounds that you've put on this past year are the current storage areas. There's the possibility that you're going to have some type of mild kidney issues while your system cleans out." He held up his hands. "I'm not talking about kidney failure, or anything terrible like that. I'm mentioning this simply because some people experience, um, oddities when they urinate. The wacky colors will be the toxins coming from your body."

"Colors?" Tony's eyes widened.

"Some people experience purple, green, blue, a wide variety of colors. I'm concerned with making sure that if you experience red, that you get to a doctor immediately." Gibbs nodded.

"As you stay clear of grains for a longer period of time, your mind will become clearer. The same will be true for the dairy, etc. If it's on your list as fatal, moderate, or really even mild, I want you to stay away from those foods for now, alright? It's going to be a huge change, but it'll help you immensely." He sat up a bit straighter. "Any other questions?"

"Too many to ask." Tony blew out a breath. "I think I'm gonna need to do some reading."

"That's an excellent idea, for both of you." Dr. Paulus nodded as he spoke. "The more you know, the more you can do to help your own body heal. I'm going to ask you to schedule a follow up appointment for a week from today. You may not have gotten in to see Michelle before then, but I want to keep a careful eye on how you're doing, ok?"

Gibbs nodded, his emotions nearing numb. He'd come in feeling like he was lost in the sea with no one to find him, and now he was leaving, with so many life-preservers around him that he felt overwhelmed. Tony could see the tears starting to form, and agreed that they'd make the next appointment.

"I'm sorry to have overwhelmed you, Agent Gibbs." Dr. Paulus stood, holding out his hand. "I'm glad I can help you some, though, and hopefully, next time, we'll make more progress, ok?"

Once in the car, Gibbs gave in to the relief he felt and wept unashamedly. He wasn't going to die. He wasn't going to be useless forever. Yes, his body would never be the same again, but he had hope for the first time in months. His breath hitched as Tony's arms came around him, providing him shelter in the storm of his emotions.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

Note: Thanks to Headbanger for being my awesome beta and good friend! Love ya!

Note: recipe at the end of the chapter. It's not as scary as it sounds. Heehee

############

Gibbs had been in pain for days. Years, it seemed. He'd gotten weaker, and he was sick of it.

One of the things he was supposed to take was Vitamin B. His nerves were shot. Literally. They were apparently malnourished, and needed special feeding and care. So he'd gotten EXACTLY what his doctor had prescribed. And the pain had grown worse. He'd been tempted to return to the emergency room, but wasn't sure he could justify the trip, knowing he had another appointment in only a few days.

Now his appointment was only a day away, and he was back in the drug store, picking up the Vitamin D he needed for the chronic pain, and the Vitamin B to help heal his nerve casings. As usual, he was cursing the pharmaceutical companies for not making any thing he could take. A stray thought ran through his mind of what would happen if he became ill. Even antibiotics weren't safe anymore.

He looked at a new brand of the Vitamin D, reading the package carefully. There was one word he didn't recognize, that he'd totally missed when he'd purchased the B only six days before. Hypromellose, explained simply as being cellulose derived. The question was, what cellulose did it come from?

He pulled out his phone, and with his new skill of checking things on his browser, he looked up the new word. And he swore. No wonder he'd been in more pain. The shit was derived from pine tree sap, which one more thing that had been added to his list of toxins. The confusion, the foul temper, the added pain and exhaustion, all of it explained right here. He'd been poisoning himself and didn't realize it. Shit.

Anger coursed through him. He went up and down the aisle, trying to find a single vitamin he could take. Every brand had nuts, sap, dairy, or a grain. There wasn't a single brand that was safe for him. He went to the pharmacist, asking if there was any way he could order anything in, and was told that unless they could find something, that no. However, they'd look in their catalogue and see if there was anything they could do.

The lady looked sympathetic. Sympathy wasn't what he wanted. He wanted vitamins that wouldn't kill his brain. He wanted to be pain free, and he wanted to not have to take children's medications out of syringes. Did they think that everyone with a food allergy had Celiac's? Did they think that making something gluten free was enough? Why the hell didn't they make medicines he could have? It couldn't be that hard, could it?

Once out in the car, he looked at Tony.

"Let's go."

"Get what you needed?"

"No." Gibbs was sullen. "The pain?" Tony nodded, knowing exactly what his lover was talking about. "They put pine sap in it." He snorted. "Freaking tree sap. Everything else is dairy, nut, or corn."

"You're kidding me!"

"No." Gibbs looked away, but not before Tony saw the painful, watery eyes his partner was trying to hide. "Let's just go home."

"Want to try somewhere else?"

"No. Just wanna go home."

Tony drove home slowly, being aware of Gibbs' agony beside him. On days like these, he became carsick easily, so Tony drove slowly, which made Gibbs grumble more. Tony simply smiled and held out his hand, lacing his fingers with Jethro's.

Once home, he watched as Gibbs climbed the stairs slowly, seeming to be so tired he worried the older man wouldn't make it to the top. He did, though, and Tony went to the kitchen for coffee. He'd give Gibbs long enough to get into bed, and then he'd check on him.

If only they had a reason for this, it'd be so much easier. It'd been a year, and after countless tests, there were still no answers. Not real ones, anyway. Keep away from grains, and a whole slew of other foods, and keep the stress level down. It was like the doctors didn't realize that not having a diagnosis was a stressor all on its own.

Upstairs, Gibbs changed into his usual pair of sweat pants and his t-shirt. He missed the days when his body held his own warmth as he slept. The days when he could sleep nude. It seemed that those days would never return, and now he was an old man who got chilled easily. With a sigh, he slipped his CPAP mask on and lay back, knowing sleep would claim him quickly.

Just like every time he slept, he felt the fingers of exhaustion crawl into his brain. When had it become so intense? He remembered a time when he could drift off and not realize it. Now, he felt his mind shutting down, and it unnerved him. However, the feeling of being unnerved wasn't enough to help him fight the exhaustion, and as his eyes closed, he slipped into unconsciousness.

Tony slid into bed beside Gibbs, and wrapped an arm around him. He hated days like this. He wasn't even sure what the difference was, but sometimes, when Gibbs fell asleep, it was as if he was more dead than alive. Today was one of those days.

Even with the CPAP and oxygen to keep his oxygen levels up, he seemed…gone. Tony lay beside his lover for nearly an hour before he decided to do something. There had to be something around the house to do. Even if it was just the dishes, there had to be something.

Tony's mind wandered as he filled the sink, intending to clean the cupboards. He chuckled at himself. He'd teased Gibbs once for wiping down his cupboards when he'd cleaned his kitchen after a team dinner, and now he was doing it. Of all the habits he could have picked up, this had to be it.

_The first night Gibbs had stopped breathing, Tony had woken feeling like dread was holding his hand. It wasn't a feeling he liked. His eyes flew open as he realized he wasn't hearing Jethro snore. He rose on an elbow, shaking Gibbs as he shook him._

"_Jethro!" His voice was panicked. "Jethro! Wake up!" Gibbs drew in a deep breath, and a moment later, his eyes groggily slid open._

"_Wh'?" _

"_You weren't breathing."_

"_Uh." Gibbs seemed unconcerned as he drifted back off, as if unable to stay awake. That had been only two weeks after he'd initially been taken to the hospital. Tony wished he could go back in time and find whatever had made his partner sick and take it out of their lives._

He finished his task and went about mopping the floor, making sure he'd gotten any of the dots of water he'd lost while cleaning the cupboards. Sometimes, he really missed work.

Tony trotted quietly back up the stairs, hoping to see if Jethro was showing any signs of waking up. Sometimes, a simple nap turned into an entire day of sleep, and other times, and hour had him awake and ready for anything. Tony wished there were signs he could learn that would tell him which would be the case.

As he sat on the side of the bed, he smiled sadly down at his love and repositioned the CPAP mask. It never failed to migrate to the left side of Gibbs' nose, pressing slightly on his right nostril. Although it had to be uncomfortable, it never seemed to rouse Jethro.

Tony sighed as he realized this would be one of those days when Jethro needed sleep.

Tony headed to the door, fully intending to go back downstairs when he heard a pained gasp behind him. Jethro was awake, his hand clutched to his chest. The younger man sprinted back to their bed, helping Gibbs pull off his CPAP mask.

"Jethro!" Tony took his pulse, thankful that it was steady. "I'm gonna call 911, ok?" Gibbs nodded as he leaned back heavily into the pillows, trying to breathe through the pain. He clung to Tony's hand while they waited.

By the time the ambulance arrived nearly fifteen minutes later, Gibbs was having difficulty breathing, and his forehead was beaded with sweat. Tony had reluctantly left his side to open the door, and led the charge back up the stairs, paramedics in tow.

Tony stood helplessly to the side as he watched Gibbs be transferred to the gurney. He watched as Gibbs was given an aspirin, and mentally slapped himself in the head for not thinking of that. How many times had they seen commercials telling them to do just that?

Electronic leads were put onto Gibbs' chest and legs as they administered a nitroglycerine tab and directed him to let it dissolve under his tongue. Mere moments later, one of them sent the results electronically to the cardiac unit at Bethesda. As soon as the results were sent, the pair headed back down the stairs, Gibbs between them, strapped to the gurney.

Tony was worried for a moment that the thin, wiry woman wouldn't be strong enough to get down the steep stairs without a problem. However, as he watched, the woman walked carefully down with her burly partner, neither one having any troubles at all. Tony shook his head at himself for his moment of chauvinism. Once again, rational thought had fled with fear for his partner. Thank heavens, he'd not said a word.

"We're heading to Bethesda." The burly man spoke softly. "Driving, or riding?"

"I'll drive."

###########

Tony raced into the ER, only minutes after Gibbs had arrived. He'd wanted to ride along, but knew that he would have been in the front seat as passengers weren't allowed in the back, and it would have killed him if Gibbs went into full arrest and he'd been in the way. Driving separately had been the best choice.

He told the admissions nurse Jethro's name, and was taken back to the private room they had his lover installed in. Oxygen tubing ran from the wall to Gibbs' nose, and an IV port had been installed in the back of his hand.

"Hey." Tony gripped Gibbs' un-punctured hand. "Has the doctor been in yet?" Jethro shook his head.

"Nurses."

"Just nurses, huh?" Gibbs nodded, gasping in pain at the motion. "I'm sure he or she will be in soon." He winced as Gibbs gripped his hand tighter.

"Mr. Gibbs?" A doctor walked in with a clipboard in hand. "I'm not sure what's going on, but I can tell you that your heart is doing great." Tony felt relief course through him. "There's no doubt that you've been in pain." The doctor flipped through the chart once more. "But I'm not sure of the reason why. We're going to run a couple more tests, but if nothing comes up, we'll send you home."

"Home?" Tony was confused. "He's in pain, as in chest pains. Aren't chest pains serious?"

"Yes, they are." The doctor nodded. "But when we've got severe pain and no apparent cause, coupled with a good EKG and blood work that shows normal levels of troponin and CK, there's no reason to assume a heart problem. We could be looking at costochondritis."

"What's that?"

"Inflammation of the cartilage surrounding the ribs. It can mimic a heart attack with pain and breathing difficulties."

"Great." Tony blew out a breath. "If it is costochondritis, what do we do?"

"I'll give him an anti-inflammatory medication, and leave it up to your primary care physician for further treatment."

Nearly an hour after the doctor left, a portable x-ray machine was brought in. The tech took quick pictures of Jethro's lungs, before heading back out. She'd spent only minutes with them, barely speaking. Tony wanted to scream. While they took their time, Gibbs was in pain.

Another hour passed, during which Gibbs pain became nearly unbearable. Tony pressed the call button, and a nurse breezed in a few minutes later.

"Sorry, we're busy tonight." Tony bit back his sharp reply. He waited while she turned off the switch, and then turned back to them. "What can I do for you?"

"We could use some answers, and while we're waiting, how about something for his pain?"

"We can't give him anything until we know for sure it's not his heart."

"The doctor's already let us know that it's not. So go ask him what Jethro can have." Tony's voice was ice. "I'm sure you're not too busy to find out what he can have."

"We're going as fast as we can, sir." She leveled a glare at him. He'd be more inclined to believe her if they hadn't been listening to the laughter floating down from the nurses desk for the last five minutes.

"Maybe if you stopped telling jokes, you'd be faster." He squared his shoulders. "Look, I don't want to be a bastard, but he's in pain while you guys are laughing down there. We've been told it's not his heart. That's old news."

"I'll be right back." She was on her way out the door before Tony could finish his tirade.

"If they're that busy, then they don't have time to tell freaking jokes." Tony grumbled and latched back on to Gibbs' hand. "Sorry, Jethro. You didn't need that." He wiped his hand across the older man's brow. "Anything I can do?"

"What you did." Jethro cringed as another wave of agony coursed through him.

Another 20 minutes passed before the doctor returned. "Sorry, guys." He held a chart in his hands once more. "I'm told you're asking for pain meds? Still as bad?"

"Well, it's not getting any better, if that's what you're asking." The physician's head flew up, but he kept his own snappy come-back in check. These two men were driving him nuts. There was no cause for the pain, so it shouldn't be there.

"I'm going to give him a dose of oxycodone…"

"No, you're not." Tony's voice was now iron. "Have you read his chart at all? We listed his allergies, and one of them is to grains. Oxycodone has grains in it. Find something else."

"What can he have?" The doctor didn't expect to get an exact answer.

"Liquid morphine is the safest for pain. That's what his doctor told us to keep in mind in case of emergency."

"Well, I'm not going to give morphine…."

"Listen, I get that you're trying to do your job, but part of your job is listening to your patient. And, as the speaker for your patient, I'm gonna fill you in on a few things." Tony narrowed his eyes as he spoke. "He suffers attacks of cerebellar ataxia from grains. Dairy makes his emotional state unstable. Nuts are currently causing anaphylaxis. So if you want to endanger his life, go ahead and give him oxycodone, but be aware that we'll be suing for the resulting damage."

"There's no need to get angry."

"Then read the chart. I'm assuming there's a reason for asking all of those questions." The doctor sighed. He hated patients like this.

"Fine. What meds would you prefer? I'll determine if they're suitable for the situation."

"If you're sticking with that diagnosis of inflammation, then he needs a corticosteroid, and the safest of those is prednisolone oral. For pain, I've already told you about liquid morphine. If you decide to give him something as mild as ibuprofen, then he can only have the gel caps. However, some brands aren't safe, since they contain corn solids or syrups."

"Fine." The doctor nodded. "I'll send a nurse in with the medications you requested."

Two hours later, the men were finally on their way home. Tony had a packet of information that Jethro had been given during his discharge regarding costochondritis and how to care for the pain at home. Tony was relieved that his lover was resting comfortably next to him as he drove. Gibbs had been through enough without having this added on. He wanted to punch something. When would this end? Was there ever going to come a time when there would be no surprises?

#############

Dr. Paulus shook his head as he looked over Jethro's most recent blood work. He should have seen this coming.

"We need to work on your liver." He looked up into the blue eyes focused so intently on him. "Your body is releasing toxins faster than your liver can deal with them."

"So what do we do?"

"We've caught this early, so some diet changes should do the trick."

"Diet changes?" Tony asked quietly, his shoulders slumped. His love was already so limited.

"Yes, just until your liver is back on track." Dr. Paulus went on to explain that if he was on cholesterol medication and a diabetic, that the liver enzymes would be fine. As it was, numbers with this much of a change in only three months was a sign of trouble.

He went on to describe how the liver uses certain minerals to function, and that some of them are no longer found naturally in foods, and as such, are added in.

"Since you're not eating many manufactured foods, we just need to get those enzymes in your diet in greater amounts. I know that you've been getting them, but we need to increase the amount."

"That doesn't sound too bad."

"Hopefully it won't be." Dr. Paulus smiled. "Let me get a list of the minerals and nutrients you need, and then we'll get to work on finding foods high in them. Hopefully," he spoke as he pulled a book down from the shelf, "helping your liver get better will help the pain and inflammation in other areas, namely the attack you just had."

Dr. Paulus started to list off the things Gibbs would need every day, and the amounts he'd need them in. The men shared a glance as they realized that to properly "feed" his liver, Gibbs would be restricted to only the things that would give him what he needed. The next sentence made Gibbs shrivel in his chair.

"Now, I know you like your coffee, Mr. Gibbs." He leveled his gaze at the nearly white-haired man. "But coffee is one of the hardest thing you're putting into your body. The caffeine and the acid are extremely hard on your liver, and right now, I'm not sure that it's the best thing for you."

Tony's mind began to whir. There were few guilty pleasures left in Jethro's life. Coffee was his one remaining vice. Bourbon was long gone, as was pizza, Chinese food, and pasta. He mentally groaned. He'd have to find _something_ that would be a treat.

The next two weeks passed with multiple frustrations as they tried to fit Gibbs' new dietary needs into their lives. The older man felt completely trapped, and Tony was at a loss for how to help him. The packet of papers came in from Social Security Disability, and Gibbs swallowed hard. This was real. There was no going back, at least not at this point. However, he was too young to retire, so he couldn't draw on his pension yet. He wasn't able to work, and that left the hard-to-swallow choice of SSDI.

The papers had come on a Thursday afternoon, which meant that Tony was at work. Gibbs sighed as he opened the first packet. This one was fairly straight forward. He simply needed to fill out where and when he'd had medical treatment since he'd first filed his paperwork. He listed the hospital, relisted Dr. Paulus' office, complete with the date of his last appointment, and the rheumatologist he'd needed to see due to his high levels of some enzyme Gibbs didn't understand or remember the name of.

"Hey, Babe." Tony smiled into the phone, glad that Gibbs had answered. It'd been a rough morning with stupid criminals, which meant short-term aggravation, but a quick wrap-up for the case.

"Hey." Tony's brow furrowed.

"What's wrong?"

"Got the papers today."

"What papers?"

"SSDI."

"Oh, those."

"Yeah, those." Gibbs sighed. "I kept hoping that…" his voice cracked. "That I'd be better by now. I don't want to do this. But I need…"

"Need some sort of income, I know, Jethro." Tony sighed. "We're doing ok on my salary." Gibbs snorted.

"We're doing so well that we're falling behind on doctor bills, and if something goes wrong with one of the cars, we can't fix it."

"It's not your fault, Babe."

"I know." Gibbs sounded completely defeated. "But I hate it."

"I know." Tony sighed. "I'll be home in a few hours, ok? We'll figure out something different for dinner."

"Sure, I can eat whatever, Tony. I'm not getting better anyway."

"Gibbs!" Tony spoke sharper than he intended. "You're having problems, but we're not waiting for you to die or have a stroke. It's progress. We'll work it out, ok?"

"Yeah." Gibbs snapped his phone shut. Sometimes, he just wanted to lick his wounds.

Tony stared down at the phone. He needed to find something, and he needed to find it fast. Using computer skills he'd always been so careful to hide from Tim, he flew from site to site, looking for alternatives to foods that his lover enjoyed that he could still have.

Twenty minutes later, with five minutes left to his break, a smile broke out on his face. He had a plan.

When he came through the door that evening, a heavy snore caught his attention. Gibbs was sleeping on the couch, his CPAP nowhere in sight. Tony sighed, knowing that the man would wake exhausted. His blood oxygen levels had been dropping down to the 60's when he slept without the mask, resulting in worse tiredness than he fell asleep with.

Tony reached down and felt his pulse. At least he still had a steady beat going. Sixty-five. It was dropping, but not yet dangerous. Tony'd have to keep a watch on him. But for now, the younger man was going to make use of the quiet time. He needed to get his surprise going.

Gibbs woke to wonderful smells emanating from the kitchen. His heart fell as he recognized the tantalizing aroma of orange chicken. It was once his favorite meal, but was now off limits. Apparently, Tony had taken his temper at face value. He wondered if he'd think the taste was worth the trouble.

"Evening." Tony stood in the door, a towel draped over his shoulder. "Ready for dinner?"

"I can't eat that, Tony. Not really." Gibbs felt his eyes being to fill, and hated himself for it.

"Yes, you can." His younger lover beamed. "Come check it out. I did some searching today, and found a site with a few ideas to replace rice. Come on." He held his hand out. "It's pretty tasty, if I do say so myself."

Gibbs stood and walked to the kitchen, stumbling once. Tony caught him, offering to get the cane that now sat mostly-unused near the door.

"Nah, just need to wake up."

"Shoulda gone upstairs."

"Don't start." Gibbs grimaced. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." Tony wrapped his arms around the man who had suddenly stopped when he saw the table.

"Tony." Candles lit the table, and the good dishes sat filled with homemade orange chicken and… was that rice?

"No grains at this meal, nothing that you're allergic or intolerant to." He pressed a kiss to Gibbs' temple. "It's everything you can eat. I promise."

They sat, and Tony dished up the "rice" first. Gibbs took a quick taste, his eyes widening. Tony just grinned.

"It's cauliflower!"

"Yep. Shredded it in the food processor, and then microwaved it for five minutes. Found the directions online."

"It looks like rice." Gibbs tasted another bite, this time getting a bit of the sauce Tony had ladled onto his plate. "Tastes like it, too."

"Glad you like it." Tony reached over and grasped Jethro's hand. "I'm sorry I didn't think of looking for things like this sooner."

"This is wonderful." Jethro took another bite, his taste buds thrilling to the flavor of the orangey sauce as it exploded on his tongue.

A thousand thoughts ran through Gibbs' head about what he wanted to say, what he should say, and what Tony deserved to hear. However, bite after bite, the words were shoved aside by his fork. Tony just grinned down at his own plate. His lover never got this excited over food. He'd done good.

###########

RECIPE for grain-free, dairy-free orange chicken

I have a recipe for homemade ketchup, but you CAN find grain-free ketchup.

One cup ketchup, 4 TBSP orange juice concentrate, and 2 tsp white sugar (causes glazing when cooked down). Cook this mixture until it's thickened. Usually takes about 15 minutes on medium heat.

Two boneless, skinless chicken breasts, cut into small squares. Make sure they're not injected with flavor, as the "flavor" will be either corn syrup or MSG, which is made from barley.

Once the chicken is cooked and the sauce is cooked down, mix them together and pan-fry until golden-colored.

RICE

One head of cauliflower, cut small enough to go down the feed of a food processor. Shred it, microwave it for 5 minutes WITHOUT a cover. Let cool a bit, and then pan fry it a bit to give it the texture of fried rice.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Don't own it. If I did, I'd be rich, and there'd be a LOT of changes.

Note: Thanks to my awesome beta, Headbanger Rockstar. You rock!

###########

Gibbs sat in the waiting room of social services, feeling foolish. Of all of the places he'd ever imagined finding himself, this wasn't it. He tapped the file of papers against his leg nervously, wanting to leave, but he and Tony had discussed it, and this was the best option they'd come up with. Gibbs swallowed hard. He hated admitting he needed help.

He'd been waiting for nearly an hour, and had he driven, he would have left, most likely without rescheduling. He'd known people who had needed help from time to time, and while he'd never looked down on them, he wondered what they'd wasted money on that had put them in the position of not having enough money to cover the month. Now, as he sat in the brightly colored, tailored to children, room, he saw with clarity that sometimes, people couldn't make it, no matter how hard they tried. Lord knew he and Tony had done with only half of their finances for over a year.

Gibbs had wiped out his savings account on doctor's visits, multiple medications that had been tried once and discarded, emergency room visits, and tests. There was nothing left. He felt his jaw tighten as tears started to fill his eyes. Damn emotional outbursts.

The outer door opened and Jethro suppressed a shudder. The door opening meant that someone else would see him. He'd never known that asking for help could be so shameful.

Gibbs kept his eyes trained on a spot on the floor, not looking up to see who was coming in. If they felt anything like he did, they were probably wishing they could be invisible, too. He nearly growled when the person settled next to him. A second later, he recognized the man's shoes.

"Hey, Tony."

"Hey, Jethro." Tony took his lover's hand. "You ok?"

"No." Gibbs took a deep breath. "This is harder than I expected."

"Want to leave?"

"No." Gibbs voice broke. "We can't afford to leave. We're having to choose between things I need, and things you do. I can't always come first."

"I'm not complaining, Babe."

"I know." Gibbs wiped at his eyes, no longer caring if he looked foolish. Tony was here, and that meant he could do this. _They _could do this. "But it's not fair. You need stuff, too."

"Yes, and we can go home and figure out something else if we need to. If this is too hard…"

"I'm not leaving." Gibbs took a deep breath. "Just, stay with me?"

"Not going anywhere."

The door to the back offices opened, and a tiny lady stood in the doorway.

"Leroy Gibbs?" She smiled as Gibbs stood up. "I'm so sorry I'm running late." She held her hand out. "My name's Janice. It's nice to meet you."

He shook her hand, and then turned to Tony.

"Um, he's my partner. Can he come back, too?"

"Certainly! Come on back."

She walked quickly back to her office, seeming completely unaware of Gibbs' discomfort. He wondered if she was so used to the discomfort that she didn't even notice it anymore. Either way, he didn't find it very comforting. After that realization, he wondered what he would find comforting. Nothing came to mind. Nothing but being back home with this over with, that is.

Once they were all in her office, Janice closed the door and asked the men to sit.

"I can see how nervous you both are." She smiled benignly. "I promise to make this as quick and painless as possible."

"You must get nervous people every day."

"Most people are embarrassed or upset. It's natural to feel that way when you're asking for help. Especially when you're used to doing things yourself."

Gibbs just stared at her. She sat and tented her fingers.

"I see you came prepared?"

"Yeah, I wasn't really sure how to fill out the papers, so I brought everything with me."

"That's fine." Janice took the papers from him. "I see you got your name and address, so we'll just go from there, ok?"

"Ok."

"Now, are you here for Medicaid, or other medical help?"

"I have coverage with the VA."

"Ok, so we'll say no, and if that changes, we'll come back to it."

Step by step, she led them through the papers, gathering information as she needed it. Things were a little more complicated with he and Tony living together, but since they had separate finances, it eased the problems a bit. She had Tony write out a paper stating that he'd been helping Jethro, but that the older man was responsible for his own finances, such as house insurance, car insurance, and his medical bills. They discussed Jethro's dietary needs, and how they differed from Tony's. DiNozzo happily wrote out another note stating that Gibbs would be purchasing his own food with any financial assistance he received.

Janice sorted through the letters and documents Jethro had brought with him, thanking him for being so prepared. She took several of them and made copies, tucking them into the file she was making up as their meeting progressed.

"Well, I see your doctor filled out the Med-9 form, so we're going to go ahead and get you signed up for AND now, too, Mr. Gibbs." She slid a paper across the table to him. "This paper is an agreement that you'll pay back the aid you receive now when you are either able to return to work, or when your disability is approved and you receive your first payment. It will be a lump sum, and we'll not garnish it all, but we'll take a percentage, so that the fund can continue for other people."

"Sure." Gibbs reached out and signed. If he could contribute now, he'd happily pay back later. "What's AND exactly?"

"Aid to the Needy Disabled." She watched as the proud man before her stiffened. "Mr. Gibbs, I know it's not easy, but please keep in mind that right now, you're in need of help. That's what I'm here for. Perhaps the name isn't a one that you like, but this will help you pay your bills." He nodded slowly. "It won't be much, but we'll get you something, alright?"

"Ok." He sank in his chair a little, feeling like the insults to his pride just kept coming.

The meeting continued, and finally, nearly an hour later, Janice sat back, smiling a little.

"It's been hard, I know, but we're almost there." She turned back to her computer. "Unfortunately, you don't qualify for expedited aid, but we'll get your card to you within two weeks." She slid another paper across her desk. "This is the amount you'll receive in food assistance."

"Thanks." Gibbs felt a lump grow in his throat.

"I just need you to sign this stating that you'll use this aid for your own food, and not for anyone else." Gibbs signed. "Ok, and this one is for Aid to the Needy Disabled. You qualify for this amount." Here, she pointed to the other sum on the printed paper he'd be leaving with in only minutes. "I need for you to sign this, and it's just an agreement to use the money responsibly. You can take it out at an ATM, or you can use your SNAP card like a debit card. For that, use the EBT option on the payment screen."

"Ok."

Minutes later, Tony and Gibbs left with a stack of papers, the folder he'd originally came in with, and promises of a slightly easier future.

"Want to get something quick for lunch? They opened that new salad…"

"Just wanna go home." Tony nodded. He'd seen the lines of stress getting deeper in his love's face, and was hoping he'd be able to pull him up from his depression. It looked like that wasn't going to work.

The two drove in silence until they were nearly home.

"I'm tired, Tony."

"When we get home, we can lay down for a while."

"That's not what I mean, Tony." Gibbs sighed heavily. "I'm tired. I'm tired of being useless. I'm tired of being sick. I'm tired of being so careful about everything I do, but not getting any better." Tony reached over and took his hand. "When's it going to get better? Is it? What if this is my life? Is it worth still living?"

"Hey!" Tony's voice was sharp. "So you had to swallow your pride and ask for help. So what if we've had to change our eating habits." Gibbs tried to pull his hand away. "Don't do this, Gibbs. Don't pull away." Tony gripped harder. "This is just a bump in the road."

"Bump in the road, my ass," Gibbs roared in anger. "Do you not realize what's going on? Haven't you paid any attention? Tony, I'm useless! I can't work. I can't even work on the boat. What do I do? I sit around and wait for you to get home. I play games on the fucking computer. Sometimes I read when my brain works well enough for me to understand the words. Do you get that?"

"I get it." Tony kept his voice quiet. "But I also get that I'm here with you. Just remember that, ok? I'm here with you. Every step of the way." He felt a small bit of relief when Gibbs squeezed his hand back.

"I know. I'm sorry, I'm just…"

"Overwhelmed. I know." Gibbs nodded as Tony pulled into their driveway. "Come on. Let's go rest a bit, huh? We can do lunch later." Gibbs nodded.

Several minutes later, they lay together in bed, Tony spooned behind Gibbs. He wrapped the older man in his arms. He could feel the tension seeping out of his lovers body as sleep claimed him.

"I can't promise that life will change, Jethro. I can't promise that life will get better, or even that you will." He pressed a kiss to Gibbs' ear. "But I'm not going anywhere." Gibbs mumbled something indiscernible before falling completely limp. "I love you."

Tony slept for nearly an hour. He untangled his legs from Gibbs', and got out of bed quietly. Some days it still saddened him to see how his partner had changed. There was a time when a simple movement in their bed had been enough to wake the man. Now, Tony could nearly jostle the entire bed without waking him.

He headed down the stairs and made himself a fresh pot of tea. He'd become as addicted to the stuff as Gibbs was. He enjoyed the calming effects of the yerba mate that they used, per Dr. Paulus' directions. It had cut down on Jethro's pain tremendously, which made the cost of the herb well worth it. Both men had grumbled at first when they realized that the quality of herb they needed would have to be shipped to them, which doubled its price, but Tony would gladly pay double that for the relief Jethro received from it.

Another hour passed before Gibbs descended the stairs. He poured himself a cup of tea before sitting at the table. Tony came in from the living room and poured himself another cup, waiting for Gibbs to speak. Ten minutes later, Jethro broke the silence.

"I'm sorry I got so mad."

"I know."

"I'm not gonna…" His voice trailed off. "I wouldn't do that to you."

"I know." Tony heaved a sigh. "I know you'd not hurt yourself. I do. But Gibbs, I gotta tell ya, that you scared me."

"I scared myself."

"Any ideas on how to fix it?"

"New body? New brain?"

"Wish I could give you one." Tony tapped him on the shoulder. "Come on. Let's go to the living room."

Once they were seated on the couch and curled into one another, Tony began speaking again.

"I'm not sure how I can help you, Babe. I want to. But I need a clue here."

"I don't have one for you." Gibbs' voice was rough. "I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle. Like I'm supposed to retreat, but I'm not sure where to retreat _to_."

"Do you think maybe it's depression? Are you anxious? Maybe you're starting…"

"Maybe I'm starting to figure out that I'm screwed, ok?" Gibbs stood up and paced the living room. "What if I'm not depressed, huh? Cuz I'm not! I'll tell you what I am, though! I'm pissed!" Gibbs was shouting by now. "I'm pissed! Are you happy? I'm not depressed! I'm not anxious! I'm pissed as hell that I'm sick, and I'm not getting better. And I'm terrified that I'm not _going_ to get better."

Tony sat back and watched his partner let loose of the emotions he'd been bottling up.

"What if I don't get better, Tony? What if _this_," he motioned to his thinning, no-longer-toned body. "What if this is all I've got left? Are you going to want to be stuck with me? Are you going to want to give up your life taking care of someone who's slowly wasting to nothing?"

"You're losing weight, Jethro." Tony stood and walked to stand before his lover. "You're not wasting away." Gibbs scoffed. "And your muscles aren't as strong, because you've not been able to work out. But you're getting better?"

"Right." Gibbs rolled his eyes.

"You are. Do you remember, only a few months ago, that you were sleeping most of the day? What about the days when you weren't able to do the stairs, and the times I've had to help you change clothes? You're having fewer and fewer of those days, Jethro." He took Gibbs face in his hands.

"I know it seems impossible, like it's never going to get better, but believe me when I say that I can see improvements. I can see them. I know you don't, and that's just how it is. But do you trust me?"

"Yeah." Gibbs allowed tears of frustration and pain to flow from his eyes as he leaned into Tony's shoulder. He felt Tony's strong arms come around him, and let himself relax into them.

"I've got you, Jethro. And we're gonna be fine. You're gonna be fine."

Neither of them cared how long they stood in the middle of the floor. They only knew that strength was found together, and strength was what was currently needed. It wasn't until their stomach's grumbled that they separated.

"So, what do you want for dinner?"

"What have we got?"

"Well, I got some steaks, and we've not had red meat in a couple of days."

"Not sure I can handle that tonight."

"So how about French-toast-less?" Tony grinned, hoping that his boyfriend would say yes. He was in the mood for syrup. But then again, he usually was.

"Just don't scorch the pan this time." Gibbs smirked. "That was awful. House stunk of burned beans for a week."

"Not a week, Jethro." Tony winked. "It only seemed like that because I got to go to work, and you got stuck with it."

"Yeah. For a week."

"I'm pretty sure those were actually my socks that you were smelling." Tony stopped, his head cocked to the side as if in serious contemplation. "I don't know, though. I was gone that week."

"Yeah, I know." Gibbs smacked his lovers bottom. "And the house stunk for the whole damned week. Watch them this time."

"Fine, fine. If you insist." Tony stuck out his tongue, barely dodging the head-slap that came his way. "Hey! You nearly got me that time! See? Improved reflexes!"

"Make the damned shit, Tony." Gibbs glared him, barely keeping the smile from his face. Tony knew better, however, and could see the humor in his eyes.

"Yes, Dear."

###########

Two weeks passed, and Gibbs sat down with Tony to figure out how to spend the financial aid he'd received in the mail. They went through the cupboards and listed everything that they had, checking it against a list of everything that they needed.

"Now, this is for you, Gibbs. Not me. Stop looking for stuff that I need."

"We cook together, Tony."

"I know, and we explained that to Janice. And she said to be sure we spent this money on you. So stop putting things on there that you can't have."

"It's just a shopping list, Tony."

"Follow the rules, Lover-boy."

"I hate rules."

"Yeah, but we gotta follow them. Just be glad it's Saturday, and there's no case. We can actually go shopping."

"Not sure I'll have the energy after we get this list done."

"There's always tomorrow."

"I hate that phrase."

"I know." Tony smiled sweetly. "But it's so true." He grinned, knowing he would pay for it later, but he was unable to stop himself. "Just remember the rules of the cat. It can be done, it should be done, it shall be done… tomorrow."

"You're an asshole sometimes."

"And you're a bastard." Tony kissed his cheek.

########

RECIPE FOR FRENCH-TOAST-LESS

1 cup soy flour

4 TBSP sugar

2 TBSP and 1 tsp xanthan gum

1 TBSP cinnamon

5 TBSP lemon juice

2 eggs

1 1/3 cup vanilla flavored soy milk

2 TBSP olive oil

1/2 tsp vanilla flavor

Heat a frying pan on medium heat, and fry by 1/8 cup amounts. DO NOT oil the pan. Cover the cooking "toast", and flip when fully cooked on one side.


	6. Chapter 6

Note: In regards to a couple of guest reviews who had questions and concerns. For the first, which concerns soybeans (Thanks for keeping your comments polite). Soybeans are not considered grains. They are beans. Grains are: barley, bulgur wheat, corn, durum wheat, fonio, kamut, millet, oats, corn, rice, rye, all other wheats (including amaranth), sorghum, spelt, teff, triticale, and wild rice (sometimes recommended for some diets due to low allergenic properties). Beans, however, until they are ground or sprouted, DO have the same enzyme that makes grains indigestible for some (the enzyme is found in the husk). Beans include kidney, pinto, red kidney, chickpea, soybean, etc.

In regards to the next concern, which is regarding Gibbs health and financial status. He DOES have medical care from the military. If you were reading, you would see that he did NOT sign up for Medicaid. He does NOT, due to not retiring, and no longer having time under the FMLA laws, he currently does not have any income. Include the fact that out of anything he MAY be receiving, he still has two alimony payments, and it's understandable as to why he would need assistance. The military benefits nor the federal benefits would feed him, even if they provided medical care. As the story has progressed, we have seen that he's needed to leave the "typical" care and go with an alternative care, and that is NOT covered by most insurances. (And just so you know, I know MANY veterans who took gov't jobs after serving 10-15 years, became ill, and are now on various forms of assistance, waiting for their benefits to kick in. Retirement isn't paid until a certain age, unless you serve a full 20 years, and even then, there are times when it is delayed.)

###########

Tony pulled in the drive after a long day, looking forward to relaxing. They'd been shopping only the day before, and had stocked up on all sorts of things that Gibbs could make for easy dinners. They had converted their kitchen to focus on Jethro's diet, and there was no more worry for contamination of foods. With that knowledge, came the knowledge that Gibbs bad days were going to be far behind them.

"Jethro?" Tony pulled off his jacket, and kicked his shoes into the closet. "How do you feel about spaghetti squash tonight? Some of that sausage we made up, a little sauce, and…" He looked to the couch, where Gibbs usually waited for him. "Where are you?"

Tony walked into the kitchen and saw that Jethro had at least eaten lunch. There was the core of a head of romaine lettuce in the trash, and a dirty knife from the "safe" brand of mayonnaise in the sink. Along with it was a bowl that must have held some of the frozen fruit they'd gotten. It was weird for Gibbs to leave dishes in the sink, especially unrinsed.

"Babe?" Tony took the stairs two at a time, fears now invading his mind. Something was wrong.

A quick look in the bedroom revealed that the bed was still made from earlier, and Gibbs wasn't in the en suite bathroom.

"Where are you?" A noise from down the hall caught his attention, and he turned toward it.

The door to the spare bedroom was open, and his lover was standing before a pile of boxes. The top box was almost chest high, and the lid was off. Tony smiled sadly as he took in Jethro's dress. The man hadn't made it out of his pajamas all day.

"Hey." Gibbs' head snapped up at the sound of Tony's voice. "What are you looking at?"

"Picture."

"Yeah, I see that." Tony kissed the side of Gibbs' head. "What's up?"

"Hurt."

"Why didn't you lay down?"

"Couch." Gibbs looked confused as he hunted for the words he wanted. "Hurt more."

"You tried the couch and it hurt more?" Gibbs nodded, and returned to the picture before him.

"Who?"

"That's your mom and dad." Tony pointed to the people as he spoke. "You're having a bad day, huh?"

"Good morning." Gibbs nodded. "Lunch." He shook his head.

"Things got bad at lunch?" Gibbs nodded. "Why didn't you call me?"

"Fall down."

"You fell?"

"Yeah."

"Did you get hurt?"

"No."

"Come on." Tony took Gibbs hand, leading him from the room. "What did you have for lunch?" The younger man wracked his brain for things that could have caused this problem. It was as if they were back to the first days when Gibbs had suffered his first bouts with cerebellar ataxia.

"Sandwich."

"Did you forget, and have some of the bread in my cupboard?"

"No. Careful."

"Ok, what else did you have? You had mayonnaise, right?" Gibbs nodded as Tony pushed him down on the side of the bed. "And you had a piece of the roast for your meat, right?" Another nod. "And I saw you had fruit? What kind?"

"Berries, red ones."

"Those were the strawberries." Tony pulled out his phone and dialed Ducky. He knew they'd be headed to the ER, but he wasn't sure if they needed an ambulance, or if driving would be ok. "Do you still hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Where do you hurt, Babe?"

"Head. Neck." Jethro tried to lay down and winced. "Body."

"Your whole body?" Gibbs nodded as tears sprang into his eyes.

"Hurt, don't…why?"

"I don't know, Babe." Tony knelt on the floor beside the bed and stroked Jethro's hair. When Ducky didn't answer after the fourth ring, Tony decided that they'd drive in. Gibbs was still talking, and while he was confused and in pain, he didn't seem to be having any cardiac trouble.

###############

"I'm sorry." The doctor stood at the side of Jethro's bed. "I'm at a loss. I've run tests, and I appreciate the information you've given, but the only thing I can really do is offer pain management."

"Do you have any idea of what's causing it?"

"No." The doctor shook his head. "His inflammation markers are incredibly high, but I can't find any reason for it, and I'm hesitant to give him anything else to take them down, since everything I would normally use could trigger more pain, especially with his compromised blood-brain barrier. He's had the injection of Toradol already, so that will help some."

"You understand that?" Tony was surprised.

"It's in his chart." The young doctor smiled sheepishly. "I don't understand it fully, but I read that most anti-inflammatory medications can cause further problems with cerebellar ataxia patients. Honestly, he's the first case I've seen first-hand."

"I appreciate your honesty."

"I just wish there was more I could do." The young man shrugged. "I know there's a problem, I just don't know where, or how to go about solving it."

"So what now?"

"Well, as I said, pain management." Tony nodded. "We've got the IV started and he's had an injection of Toredol."

"Yeah, he got that a while ago."

"If that doesn't work for his pain, we'll go to the morphine, but I'd like to give it a few more minutes."

"Do you really think it's better?"

"I think I'm more comfortable with it, since I know how it is supposed to react with his brain and the hormones that cause inflammation. I'm not as comfortable with morphine, simply because it doesn't have anything to combat the root cause, which seems to be the inflammation."

"Could morphine hurt him?"

"No. Morphine is fairly safe, provided people take it properly. The biggest complaint is nausea."

"Ok." Tony relaxed a little.

"Do you have any other questions? I'm going to try to call his physician. I don't think we need to necessarily admit him, but I'm not interested in taking chances, either."

"Thanks, Doc, and I don't have any other questions. Jethro, Babe, do you?"

"Wan' home."

"We'll get you there as soon as we can." Dr. Fredrickson patted Jethro on the shoulder.

A few minutes later, a nurse breezed through the curtain.

"I need to take your vitals again, Mr. Gibbs." He was still hooked up, but the blood pressure cuff had been turned off to relieve the discomfort of it squeezing his arm. "You ready?" She waited a moment, and when she saw that he wasn't comprehending, she tried again.

"I'm gonna turn the machine on to take your blood pressure, ok? Gonna squeeze your arm again." This time he nodded.

"Thanks for being so patient." Tony kept his voice soft. "Sometimes when we come, well…"

"Some people have no business being nurses. I'm sorry you've had bad experiences." She pulled a thermometer from her pocket, and showed it to Gibbs. "This is just gonna go across your forehead, the same as before. Gonna see if you're still hot." She winked playfully, and Gibbs smiled bashfully.

"And there we go." She jotted information down on his chart, and smiled back at the men. "Your blood pressure was pretty high, but you've got some happy numbers again. Do you still hurt?"

Gibbs shook his head.

"No pain? No aches? Do you hurt anywhere?" He nodded this time, putting his hand over his abdomen. "Stomach hurts?" Gibbs nodded. "Ok, I'll let the doctor know. If you need anything, just press your button, ok?" Gibbs shivered. "How about a blanket? Would that help?"

"I think it'd be good. Thanks." Tony took over answering questions. "Sometimes when he gets like this, it's like he can't control his body temperature."

"No problem. One warm blanket coming right up."

"The nurses are great this time." Tony ran his hand over Gibbs' hair. "They're so nice." He watched as his lover's eyes closed. "Getting tired?" Gibbs nodded. "Think you can sleep?"

"Try."

"I'm glad you're not hurting quite as bad."

They stayed silent until the nurse returned, and she spread the blanket over Jethro.

"Do you guys need anything else? I told Dr. Fredrickson about his stomach pain, and he's on the phone now with Dr. Paulus. He's finding out what would be best."

"Thanks, but I think we're good."

########

An hour later, Tony was signing papers for Gibbs' release. He'd already called Director Vance and taken the next few days off of work so he could be home with Jethro. He'd already called Abby to check out everything that Gibbs had eaten in the day, and the nervous Goth was already at their house, pouring over ingredients on the back of packages and comparing them to lists of foods that would be dangerous.

As Tony was getting Jethro into their car, Abby was pacing their living room, anger coursing through her. She'd looked up the ingredients of every bag of fruit, vegetable, and meat in their freezer, and the results had been disastrous. Nothing had been out of order on the bags themselves, but the websites for several companies had shown vastly different answers for "100% natural". Corn syrup was still natural, but the fruit marked 100% wasn't.

Abby paced and fretted while Tony drove across town. She heard the first car door shut, and a minute later, the second. She had the offending bag of strawberries in her hand, and as soon as Tony had Gibbs through the door, she pounced.

"Guys! This is the one! They lied." Her voice held venom. "There's less than 2% corn syrup, so they didn't have to declare it, but they washed each and every berry with…" She froze, her words silenced as she watched Gibbs shrink back from her.

"Hey, Abs, let me get him settled first, ok? Meet me in the kitchen."

"Ok, I'm sorry." She fairly whispered her response. "I got mad and forgot."

"It's ok." Tony stood with his arm wrapped around Gibbs. "It's ok." The older man shook with fear, and had he been able to walk better, Tony had no doubt that he would have headed right back out the door, simply to get away from the noise.

"Let's get you upstairs, huh?"

"No." Gibbs shook his head and held onto Tony a little tighter.

"The stairs too much?" This received a nod. "So do you want the chair, or the couch?"

"Chair." Tony got Gibbs situated in the overstuffed recliner, covered him with a blanket, and kissed his forehead.

"I'm going to the kitchen, ok?" Gibbs nodded and shut his eyes. Tony stood watching him for a moment before heading up the stairs and coming back down with Jethro's CPAP. They didn't need to add any more trouble to their evening.

He stalked into the kitchen and stared down at Abby.

"Tell me what you found."

"The bag says natural flavors."

"Yeah, so that's juice, right?"

"No." Abby's eyes narrowed. "They put 100% fruit on the bag, because they're not required to disclose anything that's less than 2% of the finished product."

"Finished product?" Tony's eyes grew wide. "It's a fucking bag of fruit!"

"A bag of fruit with natural flavors, Tony. That can mean anything."

"What the hell?" Tony stood and paced the kitchen. "We read every damned package. Now you're telling me that anything we got frozen isn't safe?" He ran his hands through his hair. "What the hell?"

"Not everything, Tony. So far, just the strawberries."

"Great. He loves strawberries."

"This is the first time you've gotten them frozen?"

"Yeah. We've always gotten fresh. We decided to save money and get frozen stuff."

"I'll check all of it for you guys, but it may have been a bad move." Abby started to list things off. "Natural flavors can include MSG, which is now made from barley, so even if it's added in, it's natural, and corn syrup, because it's made from corn, and then we've got stuff like amyl acetate, made up of pear or banana oils that have been shown to cause nervous system depression, indigestion, chest pain, headache, fatigue, and irritation of the sinuses."

Tony looked at her like she'd grown a second head. "They can put stuff they know causes problems in food and have it be legal?"

"Yes, so long as each ingredient is under 2%."

"That's nuts!"

"Yes, but listen to this, Tony. It's important. No more frozen foods, ok? No more frozen chicken, no frozen veggies, no frozen fruit, nothing. If it's got "natural flavors" anywhere on it, it's dangerous."

"Shit." Tony looked her in the eye. "Can you give me a list of what they are?"

"Benzaldehyde, which is derived from almonds and can contain the toxin hydrogen cyanide in small doses (and still be legal for sale) This can cause nervous system depression and convulsions. Benzyl acetate, which is fruit based, I couldn't find what fruits they used, and can cause lung and skin irritation, and then Borneol, which causes indigestion and severe stomach upset. Those are the main ones. There's so many that there's no definite number known."

"What?"

"Tony, let me read to you the exact definition of natural flavorings & flavors according to Title 21, Section 101, part 22 of the Code of Federal Regulations for food producers, ok?"

"If you think it'll help." Tony rubbed his forehead.

_"__The term natural flavor or natural flavoring means the essential oil, oleoresin, essence or extractive, protein hydrolysate, distillate, or any product of roasting, heating or enzymolysis, which contains the flavoring constituents derived from a spice, fruit or fruit juice, vegetable or vegetable juice, edible yeast, herb, bark, bud, root, leaf or similar plant material, meat, seafood, poultry, eggs, dairy products, or fermentation products thereof, whose significant function in food is flavoring rather than nutritional.__"_

"That's everything, Abby!" Tony exploded, and then looked to the living room, relieved to see that Gibbs hadn't roused. "What the hell can we buy? Is organic food safe?"

"Not necessarily." She flipped to another page she'd pulled up. "This details how non-organic additives can be added to otherwise organic foods, provided it's still under 2% of the finished product."

"Other ingredients? That's all they're required to say? I thought with organic stuff, other ingredients was crap like salt and pepper."

"I'm sorry, Tony."

"It's not your fault." Tony opened the freezer. "So what do I need to get rid of?"

Item by item, they went through the freezer. Tony went to the garage and brought in the cooler, stuffing it full with bags of chicken, fish, fruit, and concentrated juice. So much for thinking that the "plus calcium" would be better for Gibbs when it came to orange juice. Anger coursed through Tony as he looked at the pile of unedible food.

"We should have just bought the fresh stuff." He sat at the table when they were finished and thumped his head gently. "Would have been cheaper in the long run."

"What can I do to help?" Abby twisted her fingers together.

"Let me make a list of everything we've got here, Abs. We'll need all of this again, but I guess fresh." Tony sighed as he started to write. "We can't afford all of this again, not fresh. Dammit!" He slammed his pen down on the table in frustration. "We got this frozen shit cuz we could get more, and we need to make that money stretch as far as we can."

"It's gonna be ok, Tony."

"No, it's not." Tony hung his head. "I mean, yeah, we'll work it out, but Abby, how are we going to keep going like this? I'm in over my head, and so is Jethro. We really thought that getting frozen stuff would help."

"Tony, finish the list, and let me go to the store. I'll take my laptop, and I can look stuff up as I go."

"It shouldn't be this hard to fucking grocery shop."

"No, but it is right now."

"Oh, shit."

"What?"

"We got canned stuff, too. New brands of pasta sauce, stuff like that. If it was on sale and didn't seem to have anything bad in it, we got it."

"Well, you were shopping thrifty."

"Yeah." Tony scoffed. "Fat lotta good it did."

An hour later, Abby walked into the grocery store, armed with her computer, the receipt from Tony and Gibbs' shopping trip, and an attitude that screamed "don't mess with me." Behind her, she pulled a cooler on wheels, all the while ignoring the strange looks she garnered from fellow shoppers.

"I'll take a while, why don't you go ahead?" She smiled sweetly to the elderly woman in line behind her.

The girl behind the counter looked at the tall Goth, the cooler she had, and the bag full of canned foods. With a quirk of her eyebrow, she called her manager over. There was no way her $7.50 an hour was going to pay her enough to deal with that headache.

#######

Abby wandered through the store, looking at item after item. She'd been through the canned foods and had moved on to the jars of food.

"If I'm gonna spend this kind of money, I'm getting them good stuff." With a huff, she purchased the few items she'd been able to find and drove the few blocks to a health food store.

"Finally." She walked in and smiled. "Food I can get him safely."

An hour later, she was nearly in tears as she found that most of the "organic" foods were far from it. If they were marked "grain free" or "gluten free" they contained some sort of grain, even if they claimed they didn't. It seemed that the only "recognized" grain was wheat.

"Can I help you find something?" A man in a blue vest stood beside her suddenly, a bright smile on his face.

"Yeah." She looked at his name tag and her eyes narrowed. "Barry, Store Manager." He looked a little worried for a moment. "You can help me find a lot of things."

"What do you need?"

"I need everything on this list, and it can't contain any additives, any grain…"

"Well, this is the right place to start." He smiled. "This is our grain free section."

"This isn't grain free."

"Yes, it is. There's no wheat in any of these products."

"That makes them _gluten _free, not _grain_ free." Abby gestured wildly. "They all have rice or corn or…"

"I suppose they do."

"You're darn right they do." She grumbled. "I am shopping for someone with incredibly serious and sensitive dietary needs. There is no room for error." Barry nodded. "Little tiny mistakes result in something similar to a stroke. Got that?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Now I need foods that are grain free, dairy free, nut free, additive free, and…"

"Why don't I have you talk to our nutritionist?"

Abby groaned, but nodded. At least this guy was trying.

Ten minutes after meeting the nutritionist, Abby was sure the man was brainless. He'd not only informed her that grains were a necessary part of every diet, and that everyone could have rice, so it was a good substitute for any other grain, but he'd also suggest an entire line of foods that were made from nuts.

"You know?" Abby stood up from the barstool where she'd been having her free consultation. "I think you may have some good advice for some people, but you're totally not listening. I said I needed grain free, and you're telling me that everyone can have rice. Not everyone can. I said no nuts, so you're going on about almond paste, almond milk, and coconut. What do you think those are, citrus fruits?"

She stalked off, getting what she could, and facing the reality that some things her friends had hoped to be able to have back in their diets were gone forever. An idea struck, and she purchased a large container of minced garlic in water after ensuring that it really contained nothing but garlic and water, a bag of onions, containers of fresh herbs that hadn't been processed, an entire case of tomatoes, and a dozen wide-mouth canning jars.

"They don't make pasta sauce, so I will." She smiled as she went through the produce section with renewed vigor.

She wondered for a moment why Tony, who loved to cook, hadn't thought of it, when her eyes opened in realization. He'd been so busy holding everything together, that cooking had become a burden that he just couldn't keep up with. No wonder they'd had so many salads and lettuce-wrap sandwiches and roasts lately. Those were all simple, one step things. Even the roasts were easy. Those could be put into the oven and forgotten until the timer went off, or left in the crock all day long.

Abby picked out a few Cornish hens and added them to her cart. She picked out a few roasts and requested that they be ground, much to the dismay of the meat-clerk. He argued for a moment, but stopped when she pointed out that the ground beef in the case contained "flavorings" and she didn't want the junk. He took the roasts and put them through the grinder as she watched.

Her jaunt into the store had taken nearly three hours, but she was pleased when she left. She had put the bill onto her credit card, deciding that she didn't "remember" Gibbs' new PIN for his SNAP card, even though the groceries were for him. She reasoned that they'd need fresh stuff through the month, and she was one person living on one salary, while they were two living on one.

######

Gibbs slept on while Tony caught up the housework. He put two steaks on the stove to cook while he threw in a load of laundry. Gibbs was never hungry on days like this, but Tony would try to get him to eat a few bites, anyway. Abby would probably stay for dinner, and Tony was glad for that.

He felt like he needed to talk to someone. He'd tried to talk to Ducky, but the man had come up with so many suggestions, that he'd felt more cumbersome after he'd opened up then when he'd started. He'd tried to implement some of the solutions Ducky had mentioned, such as the bell by Jethro's side of the bed for those days when he woke and his brain just wasn't firing properly.

Most people didn't know about those days. Gibbs was still fiercely proud, and Tony wasn't going to strip any more of his pride by talking to too many people. As a result, Tony felt alone in his battle. People assumed that Gibbs was always better, like the good days were his every-day.

No one saw the days when Jethro faltered in his steps. They didn't see the days when he could barely speak. They didn't see the days when he would start doing something, and then forget, stopped in the middle of his activity by what he called an "empty head".

He'd not had a day this bad in a long time, but that didn't mean he was doing as well as people thought. There was a reason he wasn't back to work. There was a reason he… A low moan from the living room caught his attention, and he pulled the knob out on the washer before hurrying to Gibbs' side.

Jethro had woken enough to grasp at his leg, rubbing at it, seemingly confused by the pain he felt.

"Hey." Tony spoke softly. Gibbs looked up at him, his blue eyes clouded. "What's going on, huh?" Gibbs looked back down at his leg, rubbing at it some more, his movements still uncoordinated. His leg spasmed, and Tony took over rubbing.

"Sit back, Babe." Gibbs relaxed, and Tony could feel the knot under his hand. "This is a big one, huh?" Gibbs nodded. "Take some deep breaths, ok? Can you do that?"

As Gibbs fought to take a deep breath and relax against the pain, their front door opened. Tony patted his leg, telling him that Abby was coming back in. Gibbs closed his eyes, wanting to shut out the noise of the cooler being wheeled through the hall. She noticed the tension in the older man's body, and decided to start putting things away.

Her eyes widened as she looked at the stove. She flipped off the burner and removed the skillet. The steaks weren't burned, but in another few minutes, smoke would have reminded Tony of their need for attention.

"Oh, guys." She whispered softly. Deciding that food could wait, she put a little more ice into the cooler, and joined her guys in the living room.

"Sorry to be so loud when I came in." She kept her voice as quiet as possible.

"That's ok. Right, Jethro?"

"Yeah." Abby beamed as if she'd won the lottery with that simple word.

"What do you guys want for dinner? I see you started steaks?"

"Oh, crap!" Tony started to stand.

"They're off the heat already, don't worry." Abby smiled. "I'm just wondering what you'd like on the side."

Gibbs began to struggle, trying to sit up as he attempted to put his feet down.

"What do you need?" Tony still held his leg, which he tried to jerk away. The younger man let him go. "Need up?"

Gibbs nodded, nearly frantic. He pushed himself up, trying to stand, but his legs wobbled, and he would have fallen had Tony not caught him.

"Need the bathroom?" Tony hoped he was right.

"Pee."

"Alright. Let's go." Tony held Jethro under his arms, helping the older man to walk across the house and into the tiny bathroom off of the kitchen.

Abby heard a slight scuffle, and then the door closed. She sat back, tears filling her eyes. How many days had these two suffered through times like this and not had someone to help? Without any further questions, she headed to the kitchen and started getting things ready.

She called Sister Rosita and let her know she'd not be able to make the bowling tournament. Her next call was to Tim, cancelling their "date" to the laser-tag facility. After that, she focused on putting groceries away, getting side dishes started for her guys, and planning on the easiest way to get them to agree to the plan she was forming in her head as she went.

Tony and Gibbs came back in from the bathroom, the older man still needing support. Jethro sat down heavily on the chair Tony pulled out for him, his cheeks turning red as he realized Abby was still there.

"Don't worry about it, Gibbs." She crossed the kitchen and kissed his cheek. "You're still Superman. You just found some Kryptonite."

"Here?"

"I went grocery shopping again." She smiled. "We found the stuff that made you sick, and so we took the food back, and got some new stuff that won't hurt you."

"Thank you." He averted his eyes, feeling tears pooling again.

"You're welcome." She stood up, going back to the stove. "Now, if you two will stay there for a minute or two, I'll have a dinner dished up and ready for you." She went to the microwave, removing the "safe" brand of broccoli, setting the hot bowl on the table.

"Get yourself a plate, too, Abby." Tony watched as she scurried about. "Made enough for us all."

"There's the two steaks, Tony." She shrugged. "I don't want to eat your dinner. I'll snack as I go along."

"We usually split one on days like this."

"I'll never eat a whole one." Abby set three plates out. "How about I share with you, Gibbs? Is that ok?" Moments later, she sat down, cutting the steak she'd share with Gibbs in half. She put his half over onto his plate, and then felt foolish when Tony "swapped" him plates and began cutting up the steak, letting Gibbs eat broccoli and potatoes while he waited.

###########

Tony returned from the upstairs, exhaustion seeping out of him. He smiled tiredly at Abby.

"Thanks for your help."

"Not a problem." She bit her lip. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Why isn't he in the hospital? I mean, why didn't they keep him?"

"Every case of cerebellar ataxia is different, Abby." Tony sighed as he sat, motioning for her to do the same. "Sometimes, the attacks are small, and we get through the day without ever going to the hospital. Sometimes they're bigger, and we need to talk to his doctor." He shrugged. "There's not a set treatment for CA, and sometimes there's nothing they can do beyond making sure the person isn't having a," he held his fingers up and made air quotes, "real stroke, and being sure that there's no other issues going on. Staying in the hospital would be easier on me, but it'd do no good for him. So they sent him home."

"What do you mean "sometimes" when you talk about these attacks? How many has he had?"

"He doesn't want you guys to know how weak he is, Abby." Tony looked his friend in the eye. "Please. I don't want to strip the last of his pride away. He feels like he's lost everything else."

"I understand that, Tony, but you need someone, too."

"I talked to Ducky once."

"Only once?"

"He had so many suggestions, and I realized how bad I am at taking care of him…" Tony began to cry. "Abby, I screw up so many times."

"How, Tony?"

"Besides today?" Tony scoffed. "There are days when I can't figure out what he's trying to tell me, and I get it all wrong. Then there're days when I make food, and he can't stomach it, or I forget, and bring home pizza. Or I'll be stupid, and bring home a soda for him, forgetting that he can't have caffeine." He drew in a deep breath, and Abby sat back, letting him ramble.

"Then there's the fact that I should have _known_ that stuff would be bad. You found it online in a couple of hours. I should have done that same thing. But I didn't even think about it."

"Tony…"

"No, I'm serious." Tony stood and paced the length of the kitchen. "He gets leg cramps, and sometimes, I don't realize it until he's so bad that it takes hours to get the cramp out. I should recognize the attacks before they get bad. I don't know why I don't see them. Is there something I miss the day before? Sometimes he wakes up bad. Is that because I made something that hurt him the night before?" He sped up his speech until he was going so fast she could barely understand him.

"I've lost count of how many times I've made the same thing over and over and over again. I swear, we live on a diet of steak, roast, soybean pancakes, eggs, potatoes, and carrots." Tony threw up his hands. "I made him orange chicken twice, and then I've been so busy with work and the house, that I've not made it since." He sank into the chair again. "I'm horrible."

"Tony, you're not horrible."

"Yes, I am." He glared at her. "I've been weighed and found wanting. Trust me."

"Who weighed you?"

"Me."

"Can I help? Maybe tip the scales a bit?" Abby reached out and took his hand. "I'm sorry you only talked to Ducky that one time. I'm sure he was just trying to help."

"He did help. I mean, he's the one who suggested the hold bars in the bathroom, especially in the shower, and the bell that we put on Jethro's side of the bed has helped a bunch of times when he's woken up and I've not been there. But there's some stuff that I just can't do. It's like I've got this button that says "break it" instead of "fix it."

"Ok, first off, stop beating yourself up." Her eyes took on a fierce glare. "Look at everything you do that helps him." He opened his mouth to protest, and she silenced him. "Listen to me." He nodded. "You've taken time off of work when he's needed you." She began to tick things off on her fingers. "You changed over your kitchen as much as you could, so he wouldn't have accidents with food.

"You make sure that dinner's on the table, even if it is the same thing over and over again. Tony, it's two o'clock in the morning. You worked a full day, came home to find your partner in distress, have been to the ER, come home, and you still made sure he ate." Her eyes narrowed.

"Would any of his ex-wives have done that?"

"Probably not."

"I can guarantee not. You're here, they're not." She put a hand to his arm again. "Tony, I've known people to leave relationships over less. You've never even swerved. That's a big thing in and of itself."

"It shouldn't be."

"No, it shouldn't be, but Tony, you've done him a world of good just by being here. He knows you love him, and he's crazy if he doubts it." Tony nodded, wiping a tear from his eye.

"I've never heard you complain about bounced checks, and no ex-wife has ever shown up looking for alimony, so I'm guessing you're getting all of his bills paid too?"

"Yeah." Tony cleared his throat. "He's not able to do his checking."

"Yeah. His checking, or cutting his meat, or a bunch of other things I'm sure you've taken over."

"It's my job."

"Yes, it is." She made him look her in the eye. "But you don't have to do it alone. Asking for help isn't a sign that you're weak, Tony. It's a sign that you're smart enough and strong enough to admit you can't do it all on your own."

She waited while Tony pulled himself together. She could see him working through her words. It was as if his brain was a giant card catalogue, and things were being neatly filed away. When he was ready, he nodded.

"Ok. So what's this plan of yours?"

############

The next day was a flurry of activity, as Tony and Abby bounced around in the kitchen as Gibbs watched TV. The sight of him completely focused on what he'd formerly called the "idiot box" saddened Abby, but she was glad that he'd found something to distract himself from the pain and mental fog. The theme from Gilligan's Island played once more, and she threw a glance at Tony.

"He watches that?"

"Only on days like this." Tony smiled sadly. "He thinks it's the best show on earth and will watch it for hours." He shrugged. "This is still disk one of the first season. We've got eleven more disks to go."

"You're kidding me!"

"Nope." Tony grinned. "We know he's getting better when he's laughing at more than the slap-stick stuff."

By the time all four disks had played from the first season, and Tony had started up the first disk of season two, Abby had managed to get two pots of soup going, three sets of chicken breasts baked in the oven, while she had the sauce for orange chicken cooking down, complete with vegetables in it. Tony stopped in the doorway and watched.

He never would have thought of cooking for the whole month and freezing individual meals. However, as he watched, he began to see how much sense it made, and how it would be easy to have her over once a month to help out. He watched as she dumped an entire case of tomatoes in his sink.

"What are you doing?"

She turned to him with an impish smile.

"Spaghetti sauce to go with that spaghetti squash." Tony crossed the kitchen and kissed her on the forehead.

"You're the best, Abby."

"I know." Tony rolled his eyes, even as he grabbed the paring knife she held out to him. "Now get to work. These onions won't peel themselves."

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am."

"Yes, Sir."


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: Still don't own it.

Note: Thanks to Headbanger, my awesome beta!

Note: and just cuz I didn't make it understandable last note and I had a few questions regarding it… the "shell" of the bean that carries the enzyme isn't the part you shuck off, but it's the skin that coats the bean, such as the red part of red kidney beans. It's the part you see when you pour them out of a bag or can, and that, when ground or sprouted, is shed. Sorry to have left confusions!

#########

Tony was seated at the table once again, this time with Jethro beside him. The older man was still having a hard time, and had dropped his silverware twice. Tony picked his fork up and tossed it in the sink, getting another one from the drawer.

"Sorry." Gibbs words were still slurring.

"Nothing to be sorry for." Tony leaned over and kissed his cheek. "This is a bad one, huh?"

"Yeah."

Abby watched the exchange, wishing she knew a way to ease their pain. She and Tony had discussed calling Jack the night before, and he'd made it clear that Jethro didn't want anyone to know how weak he was. For Tony, that included keeping the older man in the dark.

She'd been at their house for nearly two days now, and was amazed at everything Tony helped Gibbs with while catching up on the housework and getting his go-bag ready for another week. During that time, she'd made a month's worth of meals that were frozen in individual containers and could be microwaved or put into the oven, depending on what they were.

She and Tony had made spaghetti sauce, meatballs, sausage, soups, and a variety of casseroles. During the time meals had been cooking and the kitchen was a one-woman operation, Tony had helped Gibbs up and down the stairs a few times, had helped the man shower, dress, shave, and stand up on multiple occasions. She wasn't sure how either of them managed to do this day in and day out with Tony keeping his job and always looking like he was well-rested.

Abby was exhausted by the time she left the Gibbs-DiNozzo household on Sunday night. She pulled out her cellphone on the way home, deciding that if they were too stubborn to ask for help, she'd ask on their behalf. Tony needed help before he made himself sick.

######

"Mallard residence."

"Hey, Duckman!" Abby put her phone on speaker as she backed out of the drive. "How are you?"

"I'm doing well, thank you. How was your bowling tournament?"

"Don't know." She took in a deep breath, suddenly not sure she'd done the right thing. "I didn't go."

"Are you in some sort of trouble, Abigail? You sound stressed."

"I kinda am, Ducky. I sorta told someone who's having problems that I'd not say anything, but he and his caregiver need help. I'm not sure what I should do."

"Making a call like this is a difficult decision, Abigail. Are there reasons they choose to not ask for help?"

"Besides pride? Not really. I mean, money is an issue, and the one who needs care doesn't qualify for home care, even though he could really use it. His partner won't ask for help, because he doesn't want to embarrass his partner."

"Might I enquire as to whom we're speaking of?"

"Not yet."

"Well, then I would suggest calling on their family members. Do either of them have parents, siblings, or children?"

"Well, they both have dads, but the one's dad is a loser, and the other one lives a long ways away."

"In what way is the one man's father a loser?"

"Self-centered, and if he came, he'd want to be paid for it."

"Ah. I see." Ducky was quiet for a moment. "Would we, by any chance, be speaking about our esteemed Jethro and Anthony?" The silence on the other end was all of the answer he needed. "I thought Jethro was improving, Abigail. Anthony spoke with me several months ago…"

"I know, Ducky." She took a deep breath. "He told me about how he talked to you, and you gave him suggestions."

"Yes, I told him some of the things that helped with my mother."

"The thing is, Ducky, that he got it into his head that he's failing, and he's doing so much, but he didn't want to ask for help, and…"

"What can we do?" Ducky cut her off.

"Can you go visit them, and maybe, well, don't give any suggestions?"

"I'll do my best, my dear."

"Thanks, Ducky." She cleared her throat. "Do you think they'd get too mad if I called Jack?"

"Perhaps it's better to follow one of Jethro's rules in this situation, Abigail, and act first, seeking forgiveness later."

"Thanks, Ducky."

#########

Tony helped Gibbs out of the shower and got the older man back to their bed. Tony helped Gibbs dress, and then knelt down and put the older man's shoes on.

"Feel stupid."

"Don't feel bad." Tony smiled up at him. "Gives me a chance to wait on you hand and foot."

"Need to do more."

"You'll do more when you're able to, Jethro." Tony rose up and kissed Gibbs' forehead. "I don't doubt that for a minute." Tony held out his hands. Are you ready to go downstairs?"

Gibbs nodded, and Tony helped him stand. Gibbs didn't need as much support today, so Tony walked with his arm at his waist. Once they reached the stairs, Tony went down a step, turning around so that he could support Jethro as they went down the stairs. Once they reached the bottom, Tony helped Jethro to the kitchen, and got him seated at the table.

"You doing ok?"

"Yeah." Gibbs was covered with a light sweat. "Lots of work."

"I know." Tony rubbed his shoulder. "How about eggs?"

"Hashbrowns?"

"Eggs and hashbrowns it is, then."

The two chatted while Tony made breakfast. He brewed the tea that they'd found worked for Jethro's nerve pain, which was a mix of yerba mate and kava-kava, pouring a cup as soon as the coffee pot-turned tea pot finished perking. Tony put the two plates he'd made on the table as the doorbell rang.

"Guess I'll be right back."

Tony jogged out of the kitchen and opened the door, stunned as he looked at the man standing on their porch.

"What are you doing here?" He grimaced at his own words. Perhaps they weren't the best way to start off. He kept his voice low, making sure he wouldn't be heard in the kitchen.

"I came to help."

"Who called you?" Tony's eyes narrowed.

"A friend. Can I come in?"

"Yes, but let me talk to him first. He's…"

"Afraid. I know." Jack nodded. "I just want to help my boy, Tony."

"Stay in the living room. Let me talk to him first." Tony raised his hand, intending to say something else, but he was interrupted by a loud crash.

Tony raced back to the kitchen, hoping that Jack would do as he asked and just stay out of sight. He entered the kitchen and swore softly.

"What happened, Babe?"

"Fell."

"Yeah, I see that." Tony knelt, picking up the broken coffee mug. "Why did you get up?"

"Spilled." Indeed, there was tea all over the table.

"Didn't get it back into the safety zone, huh?" Gibbs shook his head. "Well, as soon as we're back up, I'll pour you another glass, ok?"

"Ok." Gibbs groaned with the strain of standing from the floor as Tony helped to pull him up. "Who's…door?"

"We'll worry about who's here in a minute. Did you get hurt?"

"My hand." Gibbs showed Tony his palms, one of which had a shard of the cup in it. Tony dug it out and pressed a napkin to it.

"It's not bad." Tony looked at it a moment later. "Does it hurt a lot? Do you want something?"

"No." Gibbs shook his head. "Tried to help clean the mess."

"Why not wait? You know I'd have done it."

"I know." Jack felt terrible when he heard Jethro's voice crack. "Got my pants all wet."

"Yeah. We'll get you changed. I think there's still some laundry in the dryer." Tony squeezed his lover's knee. "Just stay put, ok?" Gibbs turned red but nodded.

Jack watched from the living room as Tony returned with a new set of clothes and helped his son change. Jethro was obviously humiliated, and Tony was doing all that he could to reassure his lover that everything was ok. Once Jethro was dressed in dry clothes, Tony asked if his hand was still bleeding. Gibbs removed the towel from where it had been pressed and shook his head. A Band-Aid later and Tony was ready to discuss their visitor.

"Now, to answer your question about who was at the door." Tony cleared his throat. "Abby made a call for us." Jack could see Jethro tense. "She called your dad, Hon, and he's here."

"You ask her to?"

"No." Tony took a deep breath. "But she wants us to have help for a while."

"I'm sorry." Gibbs leaned forward into Tony. "I'm sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, Babe."

"I should go to a home or something, Tony." Gibbs words slurred more as his emotions became more intense. "Assisted living."

"Don't even think it." Tony took Gibbs' face into his hands. "Look at me, Jethro." He waited until he had the older man's full attention. "I'm not putting you in a home. Not for a day, not for a week, not for an hour. Your home is here. We're a package deal, Jethro, and they're not gonna let me move in there with you. So that's not gonna work."

"Too much trouble."

"You're not too much trouble, Gibbs." Tony lowered his hands, taking Jethro's into his own. "If I was sick, would you say I was too much trouble?"

"No."

"Then don't say it about yourself. Now. You ready to say hi to Jack?"

Gibbs swallowed his pride as he nodded. His dad was here, and he knew Tony needed help. He'd just been hoping that he'd be able to take care of himself. Gibbs mentally cursed his brain as he watched Jack come into the kitchen after Tony had nodded to him.

"Hey, Le…Jethro."

"Jack." Gibbs held out his hand, grasping his dad's hand in his own. "Glad you're here."

"Me, too." Jack smiled. "I should have come sooner, instead of believing you two boys when you kept saying everything was fine." He looked from one to the other. "I ought to know by now that your idea of "fine" is a little different from everyone else's."

"Jack." Tony's voice held a warning, and the older man raised his hands.

"Not mad, just wishing you two had spoken up. I'd have come sooner."

"Didn't want to bother you."

"Not a bother now, boys, and it wouldn't have been sooner, either."

########

Jack finished washing up the few dishes left from dinner. Tony had been on the phone most of the day discussing a new case that needed his eyes, and once he was certain that Jack was up for as long as they needed him, he agreed to return to work.

He'd watched the panic reach his son's eyes before he hid the fear and told Tony that he'd be fine. Jack wondered what he could do to win the trust they'd started to rebuild once more. He cleared his throat, refusing to let his emotions take over. It sure was hard to see his son like this, though.

Upstairs, Tony helped Gibbs out of his clothes and into his pajamas.

"You really ok with me going back to work?" Tony helped his lover button his shirt.

"Yeah." Gibbs took Tony's hand in his. "I've kept you from what you need to do."

Tony took in Jethro's droopy eyes and exhausted posture. When he got like this, he was usually over-emotional. Tony pulled the hand that held him to his lips and pressed a kiss to Jethro's fingers.

"I already told you that I'm glad to be here. You've not kept me from anything." Gibbs looked at him in disbelief. "One thing that we need to talk about though, is how to handle Abby."

"She was right." Gibbs lay down, as if too tired to stay sitting up. Tony helped him get his legs under the light blanket. "You need help. I'm a lot." He was asleep before Tony could think of a response.

Tony sat on the floor by the bed, his head resting on Jethro's pillow for several minutes. His mind whirled with solutions to problems that may not exist, and conversations he'd need to have in the morning. With a heavy sigh, Tony drug himself up from where he sat and headed back down the stairs. He needed to be sure that Jack had everything he needed, even though the older man had assured him that he did.

"Hey, Jack."

"Tony." Jack looked up, smiling. "Come down for a final cup of coffee?"

"Sure." Tony took the seat Jack nodded to.

"Be honest with me, son."

"What about?"

"Last time I was up here, you two told me you had things under control, and every phone conversation we've had, you two have reassured me, telling me that he's doing better." Jack's hands trembled a bit. "And then I get a call from Abby, and I find out that it's not true." He looked into Tony's eyes. "Tell me what this last year has _really_ been like, Tony."

"It's been hard." Tony swallowed hard. "He's had good days, bad days, and everything in between. I've worked most of the time." Tony shrugged, his eyes focused on his hands. "Sometimes I get home to find him sleeping, and know he's not been awake except for breakfast, and other days, he's like the mad hatter." Tony took a sip of his brew.

"Some days, it's like he's never been sick. His brain and body work just fine. No stumbling, no slurring, no spilling." He waved his hand helplessly in the air. "On days like that, he can help by cleaning a little, and he can fold laundry, sometimes he can even cook a little. Those days give us hope."

"And the other days?"

"Some days, he's quieter. Like, he's always quiet, but some days he's just…"

"So quiet it's strange?"

"Yeah." Tony refilled his mostly-full mug. "On those days, it's like he's searching for words, and they're just out of reach most of the time. He can still do some things, but he's really slow at them, and he has to focus more. He wears himself out on those days." Tony shrugged. "Things that he can do on a good day are hard. It's like his brain gets tired, and saps his body of energy. Maybe it's the other way around, I don't know."

"Was today one of those?"

"Yeah." Tony smirked. "You being here means a lot to him. He'd usually have taken at least one nap with this much excitement." He met the older man's eyes. "His naps are usually three or four hours, and he may take two in a day."

"That's a lot of sleep."

"It is, but if he doesn't sleep…well, you'll see tomorrow."

"Sets him up for a bad day?"

"Bad day doesn't even cover it." Tony rested his forehead on his palm. "The bad days are awful."

"What are they like?"

"He has trouble doing the simplest things. He can't button his own shirt, and sometimes he can't walk very well. He falls on those days, and there's times when I can't catch him, even if I'm in the room."

"That sounds rough."

"It's harder on him." Tony felt tears well in his eyes. "He knows he's not himself. He tries so hard on those days, but he just can't be himself. If I can get him distracted, he's a lot better. He likes to play on facebook. He doesn't really talk to people, but he plays games like a fiend." Tony smirked. "And Gilligan's Island. Who'd a thunk, huh?"

"He liked it when it was on the first time." Jack smiled at the memory. "I remember him and Shannon sitting down and watching it when they were visiting one time, and he just laughed. He never was big on television, but she liked a few shows, and got him to watching them."

"No wonder he likes it so much." Tony took another sip of his coffee. "Thanks." He turned his cup around a few times, and then cleared his throat. "The pain is something that I need to tell you about."

"Pain?"

"Today wasn't too bad." Tony shrugged. "But some days, he can barely move. Those are usually his bad days, sometimes not. On those days, just brew him tea and keep him as comfortable as possible."

"What about pain medications?" Tony's jaw worked for a moment.

"There's none he can take without being in the hospital."

"Nothing? What about motrin, or…"

"They've all got chemicals he can't have, and the stuff that he can have is carefully controlled, and I'd have to learn how to give him shots, and the doctors haven't felt it necessary yet. The risks outweigh the benefits."

"What can I do for him if the tea doesn't work?"

"Get him distracted." Tony shrugged again. "Sometimes it's having the TV on while he's playing games. Sometimes it's a book, anything that helps is what we go with. He's pretty limited those days. A lot of the time, he's not able to read because of the pain, so I'll read to him if I'm home. If I'm not home, well, he's usually in agony by the time I get to him."

Silence fell around them for several minutes. Tony was wondering what else he needed to tell Jack that they hadn't covered earlier in the day. Jack sat back, looking at the young man who'd taken such excellent care of his son and loved him so thoroughly.

"Thank you, son." Tony furrowed his brow. "You've taken great care of my boy. Thank you."

"I love him, Jack. I can't see doing anything else."

#######

The next morning found Tony rousing Gibbs only long enough to bid him goodbye. The older man barely slid his eyes open, but Tony knew he'd remember being kissed, and didn't let himself feel guilty as he jogged down the stairs. He smiled at Jack, who was sitting at the table reading the paper.

"Have a good day, son."

"You too, Jack." Tony reached for his empty to-go cup. He'd stop and fill up at the coffee cart outside of the Navy Yard. "There's meals in the freezer, and the tea is…"

"You got it all ready last night, remember?" Jack fought laughter. He was reminded of the first time he baby-sat for Kelly. Jethro and Shannon had been this nervous and informative then, too, right down to having a row of bottles lined up on the counter that simply needed water added to them.

"Right. Um, well, I guess I'll see you tonight then." Tony picked up his keys and raced out the door.

Jack grinned and went back for his paper. Two hours later, he went upstairs and checked on Jethro, not being surprised from Tony's description of how his bad days were, that he was still asleep. He headed back downstairs, deciding that no matter what, his son needed nourishment. He could wake up long enough to eat some eggs.

Fifteen minutes later, Jack climbed the stairs again, this time with a lap-table filled with a plate, tea, and a slice of ham. He set the tray down and spoke to his son, raising the volume he used each time until Jethro slowly opened his eyes.

"Don't have to get up, son, but let's have some breakfast, ok?"

"'K." Gibbs slipped back into sleep.

"Jethro!" Jack shook his shoulder a bit. "Time to wake up and eat."

This time, Gibbs struggled to sit up, pain making him hiss as his nerves made themselves known. He sat with his back against the headboard and let his dad put the tray across his lap. Jack watched as he tried to pick up his fork, his fingers seeming to be incapable of grasping the utensil.

"Want some help?" Gibbs shook his head. He tried for several minutes to grasp the now maddening fork, and when he felt it slip from his fingers again, he turned frustrated eyes to his father. "Here." Jack stabbed a bit of egg and held it up for Jethro. His son glowered unhappily, but opened his mouth a moment later.

Jack helped Jethro finish his breakfast, one slow bite at a time. Swallow after swallow of the now-tepid tea was drank in the same manner. When he finished, Jethro stuttered out his need for the restroom, and his father helped him to the commode. As Jethro did what he needed, Jack stepped out, barely holding himself together. He should have come sooner. Gratitude swept through him as he thought about Tony, the man who was basically his son-in-law, and everything he had done.

###########

Tony swore and looked down at his watch. It was now a little after 5, and just as he was hoping to say those magic words of "go home", McGee got a hit on the BOLO he'd put out. Once the younger agent rattled off the address and situation which led to the tip, Tony started to grab his gear.

"Gear up and let's go." He looked to the woman sitting opposite of him. "Ziva, you're driving."

Tony pulled his phone from his pocket and called home. Jack informed him that Jethro had slept nearly the entire day, and was, in fact, asleep at the moment.

"I'm not sure when I'll be home, Jack." Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "We're going to be out in the field, so you can't call unless it's an emergency."

"We'll be fine, Tony. You keep yourself safe, ok? I'll let Leroy know where you are when he wakes up."

"Thanks, Jack."

"Tony," Jack sounded like a long-suffering parent. "Don't you think it's time you called me Dad?" Tony just grinned as he snapped his phone shut.

Three days, six phone calls, and a slightly improved Gibbs found Tony still sitting at his desk. He ran his hands through his hair, fighting the urge to scream at his team. A foolish mistake on Ziva's part had let the suspect flee, and they were chasing him for the fourth time in less than a month.

What irritated Tony more was McGee's indignation at Tony for getting upset at Ziva for the mistake. Neither of his junior agents seemed to grasp the idea that the textbook capture shouldn't have taken more than one try. The man had been basically gift-wrapped, and then Ziva went off like the Lone Ranger and had left and entire side of the house exposed for escape.

He began to write up the reprimand he intended to put into her file when McGee's computer dinged. Tony kept typing while he waited for his 2IC to speak up. He finished the reprimand, printed it out, signed it, and finally asked what the ding was that he'd heard. Usually McGee was prompt with answers. The young man looked a little nervous, but quickly schooled his features.

"Nothing, Boss." Tony narrowed his eyes.

"My office. Now." Tim paled, but did as he was ordered, and followed Tony to the elevator. Before Gibbs had become ill, he never would have thought anyone could be scarier. He'd been proven wrong.

Tony pressed the button to go down, and once they began to move, he hit the emergency switch. Leaning back against the wall, he waited. McGee began to fidget. Just as the tension became palpable, Tony's icy voice broke the silence.

"What was that message about, Tim? If it wasn't a BOLO, it was from Abby or ZIva. If it was from Abby, you would have just told me what she'd said, or at lease who it was. That leaves Ziva." Tony leaned forward. "And what would your non-order-following teammate have to say?"

"She, um." Tim cleared his throat. "She's upset, because you're being unfair."

"Is that so?"

"Well, you are being sort of harsh."

"Sort of harsh?" Tony's neck started to turn red. "We have a suspect cornered, and should have been able to capture him, but instead, we're still hunting him because she couldn't follow orders, and I'm being harsh?" He leaned forward. "McGee? What would have happened had he fired at one of us? What would have happened if you and I had not had one another's sixes, have you thought about that?"

"N-no, I guess not."

"Right. I'm the boss, McGee. Mistakes fall to me. If one of you gets shot, it falls to me. If one of you is killed, it falls on me. Hell, if one of you breaks your little toe and is on desk duty for a week, it falls on me. Do you know why?"

"Because you're the team leader." McGee wished he'd never roused Tony's anger.

"That's right. I'm the team leader." Tony ran his hands down his face, letting some of his frustration out with a long and heavy sigh. "The team has to work as a unit, Tim. I thought you understood that. Part of acting like a unit is following orders, even if they don't make sense, or you don't agree. If you're not the coach, you don't change plays. It doesn't work that way."

He leaned back and met Tim's gaze. "I'm glad none of us got hurt. I'm still considering how to handle this, beyond a reprimand. This sort of behavior is unacceptable, and it better never come from you."

"No, Boss." Tim shook his head. "I'll have your six."

"Good."

The two men returned to the bullpen and sat back at their desks. They worked on tracking leads and finding evidence for the next four hours. Tony knew his team was exhausted and just as he was about to send them home, the call came in that there had been a sighting of their suspect.

"Gear up." Tony tossed the keys to Tim. "You're driving."

############

Jack looked at the house phone with a sinking feeling in his stomach. It was after eleven at night, and Tony hadn't called at dinner as he had for the last three days. He was sure that if it was Tony, he would have called his cell, just as he'd been doing. He picked it up on the third ring.

"Gibbs residence."

"Jack?" Abby started speaking so fast he could barely keep up. "Thank heavens it's you, and not Gibbs. Well, you're a Gibbs, but you know what I mean. Tony's been hurt, and I'm not there yet, but Tim called, and he asked me to call you and have you bring Gibbs to the hospital."

"Slow down, Abby." Jack frowned. "Do you know what happened to Tony?"

"Tim said he got shot in his shoulder. He's thinking Tony may need surgery, but he doesn't know. He said there was a lot of blood, and that he knows Tony will want Gibbs there."

"What hospital?"

"Bethesda."

"We'll be there as soon as we can." Jack hung up and sighed. How these two had managed for so long without help was beyond him. Yes, they were grown men, but even grown men aren't capable of doing the impossible.

Jack climbed the stairs and entered his son's bedroom for the second time that evening. He'd already learned that Leroy was far from pleasant if he was roused, and this was only going to make him worse. Jack pulled out the bottle of clonazepam that Tony had shown him, and pulled out a pill. His boy was gonna need it.

"Leroy?" Jack shook his head at himself. He tried to remember that his son didn't like to be called that. "Jethro?" He stepped to the side of the bed and shook the other man's shoulder gently. "Wake up, son."

"Go away." Jethro slurred slightly, the CPAP making his voice nearly impossible to hear over the rush of air that came from his mouth. Jack closed Jethro's mouth, ensuring that he'd be able to breathe while he was being woken from his sleep.

"Can't go away, son. We need to take a trip. Gotta go to the hospital."

"Why?" Gibbs opened his eyes and glared at his father. He removed his mask and sat up. "What happened?" His words still slurred slightly, and coming out of slumber, his movements were uncoordinated and jerky.

"Tony's been hurt."

"Happened?"

"I don't know exactly, son." Jack helped Jethro change his clothes, rushing the process along. "Abby called, and she didn't have many details."

"Not McGee or…" Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment, "Ziva?"

"No." Jack turned around to get his shoes. "It was Abby, and she said that McGee had asked her to call."

"She say how bad?"

"No, just that we should go to the hospital."

"Liar." Jethro took in his father's stance. "She said."

"He's been shot in the shoulder, son. Tim doesn't think it's too bad, but he may need surgery. He wasn't sure if the bullet came out." As he spoke, he handed his son a clonazepam. "Take this, it'll help."

He helped Gibbs, who was still fighting off the ravages of sleep down the stairs, and into the car. By the time they reached the vehicle, Jethro was in full anger mode, and Jack was glad he'd thought to give his son the medicine to help calm his brain. Heaven help them if it wore off before he could safely have another.

Twenty minutes later, Gibbs blew through the emergency room doors as fast as a man who was listing to one side and dragging a foot could. He spotted his two former teammates and descended on them with all of the fury his brain had created.

"Why didn't you call?" His words were slurred enough that he was understandable, but he sounded fairly drunk. "Why Abby?"

"We were in the field, Gibbs."

"No 'scuse." Tears stood in Jethro's eyes. "What happened? How did…"

"Sir?" An orderly approached. "Sir? I need to ask you to lower your voice."

Gibbs glared at him for a moment before sitting down, his mouth clamped shut while he looked straight ahead. Tim tried to put an arm around his shoulder, but Gibbs jerked away. McGee exchanged a worried glance with Ziva. Just as they were figuring out who would speak, Jack came in.

"What's the word?" He looked from one agent to the other. "Well? We're waiting."

"He was shot in the shoulder." Jack nodded. "The bullet is lodged in his shoulder blade, and he's going in for surgery. He was awake, and signed for the treatment, but he's lost a lot of blood."

"And you couldn't call and fill us in on any of this while we drove?" Jack's voice dripped venom. He was a patient man, but seeing his son so torn over being left out of the loop when his lover, his husband, was hurt, had sapped the older man's good will.

"We didn't want to upset…"

"Bullshit." Jack kept his voice low, but his words were forceful, just the same. "He's been in hysterics." He looked from one to the other. "Isn't it a rule you guys have to always answer your phones? He's tried calling each of you. Neither of you answered."

"Well, we're in…"

"A hospital, yeah, I know." Jack sat down beside his son, who looked ready to completely melt down. "He's going to be ok, Jethro." Jack pulled his son's head down to his shoulder. Jethro simply nodded.


	8. Chapter 8

Disclaimer: Don't own it, make no money from it… just cheap thrills.

Note: Thanks to my awesome beta, Heabanger Rockstar. Love ya!

Note: In regards to a question about the clonazepam Jethro is on, and how it would relate to exhaustion and seizures: There're many doses of the drug available. The lowest dose, which is .25mg (1/4 of 1 mg) is enough to settle disrupted neuro-pathways and provide a much needed calm when emotions are uncontrollable, and it is much lower than the typical seizure dose. The standard dose for the controlling of seizures is around 15 (fifteen) mg, taken in three segments through the day. Thanks for the question.

And another note: I also don't own the amazing song "Train to Morrow" as it's performed by Jim Henson and the Muppets, nor the other song, which is one that I heard someone singing years ago. I have NO idea to whom credit is due. I just laughed and asked the person to sing it until I learned it.

#########

Three days had passed since Tony was shot. Three days that had Jack ready to shout, which was something he normally didn't do. It was as if he had revisited his son's toddler years, only this time he was taller and had a bigger vocabulary.

Jethro had stayed by his side as much as possible, leaving only when Ducky and Jack forced him from the room. They'd finally drug him from the room when he was alternating between crying and being reminded to keep his voice down. He had a headache that was given away by the constant rubbing of his forehead, and since he'd not slept in nearly 15 hours, it had been time to push the issue.

He'd slept nearly twelve hours once arriving home, and had woken in a foul mood.

"Jethro, I know you don't feel good." Jack tried to keep his voice even. "But if you don't knock off the crap, we're staying here so you can get more sleep." Jethro glowered. "Take your pill, keep a lid on that temper of yours, or I swear, I'll have Abby stay with Tony and I'll keep your grumpy ass here."

"Going." Jethro stood, his balance much better than it had been several days prior.

"Not like this, you're not." Jack stood toe to toe with his son. "Do you really think Tony needs you spewing your anger with him healing? You're so mad you threw your shoes a few minutes ago. Do you really think he wants to have projectiles whipping in his room?" Jack didn't back down when Gibbs growled. "The rate you're going, you'll be tossed out of the hospital before we even get to him."

Jethro leaned over and took the pill that Jack had set down on the table a few minutes before. The things were sickening. He couldn't have the "regular" pills, so he was stuck with dissolvable ones meant for children's doses, and they had a flavor that hinted of past-ripe strawberries. Gibbs put it on his tongue and let it dissolve.

"Happy?"

"Not yet." Jack smiled benignly. "But I will be once you sit down, finish your breakfast, and that pill kicks in."

"Smart ass."

"Watch it. I may be old, but I'm still your father." Gibbs sat, not daring to say another word.

That conversation had taken place nearly 45 hours before, and Jack was glad he'd pushed his son into a quiet retreat. Jethro was holding onto his sanity by a thread, and had lashed out several times at Tim and Ziva. Ducky had been on the receiving end of one tirade, until the elderly ME calmly informed the seething man that it was a choice between calling or saving his lovers life. That had been the cause for the two of them forcing Jethro to go home and rest.

Jack was ready to pull his hair out, not sure of what to do for his son. Tony had been in and out of consciousness for the past three days, and Jack couldn't explain why. The doctors seemed to think Jethro was incapable of understanding, so they never answered his questions. The stress of not knowing had been the hardest for him.

Tony woke, and Jethro stood at his bedside, staring down at his younger lover. The elder Gibbs had pressed the call button, and a few minutes later, a nurse had come in and checked, assuring them yet again that all was well.

Jack watched as his son settled, amazed at the change in his nature. Before those green eyes had opened, Gibbs had been surly to the point of Jack enforcing the "I'll make you leave" threat, but now he was calm and nearly pleasant. The eldest Gibbs breathed a sigh of relief and let his boys know he was going for a walk. He needed a break.

As he waited for the elevator, Ducky emerged from the one across the way.

"Good afternoon, Jackson." Ducky smiled warmly at him. "How are you? Has Anthony come around yet? Has he emerged from the haze I unwittingly subjected him to?"

"He's awake." Jack ran his hands down his face. "And what did you subject him to?"

Ducky took a deep breath before answering. His bearing was that of an extremely unhappy, and yet guilty man. Jack wondered what the problem was.

"I've been busy with guests, and haven't been able to make it back, and I'm afraid that my answers in regards to Tony's medical care were taken out of context." He motioned for Jack to come with him. "Please, come and sit with me a moment, and let me explain what has happened. I must say that I am exceedingly sorry for the misunderstanding, Jackson. Had I known, I would have corrected the oversight immediately."

"I don't mind sitting and talking with you, but what the heck are you talking about?"

"I'm afraid that Anthony has been the object of a misunderstanding." The elderly Scotsman sat and leaned forward, making sure to keep eye contact with his companion. "It seems that one of his team members considered one of his decisions to be poor, and decided to act on their own. This action led to him being shot." Jack nodded. "This person, and I'll not give names, decided to speak to young Anthony's doctor about how he reacts to pain medications."

"Where do you fit into this, Ducky?" Jack's eyes had grown hard.

"I fit into this at the point of his current physician asking me Anthony's history with narcotics and other pain medications. I told him honestly of how he can have hallucinations, etc. and would be more comfortable on lesser medications that would reduce the pain but leave him aware of his actions."

"What's the harm in that?"

"The harm in that comes in some sort of miscommunication, in which Dr. Rosenthal felt it would be best to keep our Anthony sedated." Jack sucked in a deep breath. "He was under the impression, partly from my answers, that it would be best to keep him in a state that would allow him to heal while limiting his mobility and keeping him quiet."

"That's why Leroy's been so upset." Jack sat back. "He kept trying to tell me that something was wrong, but he's been so frazzled, that I didn't understand it." His face paled. "He kept trying to tell me that Tony should be awake, and he'd ask why Tony was being given different medications."

"Yes." Ducky nodded sadly. "I'm afraid that had Abigail not informed me of his state, I would still be down in the morgue, blissfully unaware."

"Who did it?" Jack's eyes flashed. "I want a name."

"I've already turned in a report, based upon his care and the doctor's report."

"A name," Jack ground the words out.

"Ziva David." Ducky sighed. "She apparently caused a problem on an operation earlier this week, which is why Anthony hadn't yet been home." Jack nodded, hoping Ducky would continue. "She felt his formal reprimand was too harsh, and began a series of passive-aggressive behaviors, most of which involved slight rebellion, but nothing too serious."

"So how did we get to Tony being shot, and this mess?"

"We arrive at this point with her decision to disobey orders at the scene once more. The suspect seemed to be unarmed, and she had always enjoyed a fairly free reign when working with Jethro, and decided that her plan was best, and that Tony's was foolish."

"What's wrong with her?"

"She enjoyed the privilege of rising within the ranks of an organization her father was in charge of. But that is not a topic we should indulge in, I'm afraid." Ducky cleared his throat, getting himself back to the topic at hand. "She moved first, intending to strike. Her plan would have succeeded, were it not for Timothy and our hapless Anthony who knew nothing of it."

"So Tim's not a part of this?"

"No." Ducky's denial was firm. "I have already spoken with Director Vance, who took immediate action, as he needed to sign off on Ziva's reprimand earlier. He is not pleased."

"I'll bet not." Jack sighed. "So what now?"

"Now, we work on getting Anthony home." Ducky met his friend's eyes again. "Do you feel that you are able to handle the two of them, or would you like me to call in some favors in the way of fellow medical professionals who could come and give you aid?"

"I could use the help, Ducky." Jack nodded slowly. "But the boys are proud, and right now, Leroy's scared. Can we maybe keep it to people they know?"

"I shall endeavor to do so." Ducky stood, shaking hands with Jack. "Now, I'm going to go see our young men. Shall I tell them you'll be a few more minutes, or would you like to accompany me?"

"I'll walk with ya, Ducky." Jack smiled and returned the handshake. "Thanks for explaining all of that to me."

"Of course." Ducky nodded. "I only wish I didn't have to."

########

"Hey." Jethro's voice was quiet as he stroked Tony's cheek lightly. "You slept a long time."

"Love you." Tony's eyes were just slits, but he was far more alert than he'd been in days. "Could hear you." He licked his lips, and Gibbs got the cup that was half full of room-temperature water and held it to his lips.

"Just little sips." Jethro's words were still slurred, and his hands shook as he made sure he didn't lose his grip.

"You're doing better." Tony's eyes focused finally, and he smiled up at his lover. "Good to see you."

"Missed you, too."

The men remained lost in one another's eyes, not noticing that Ducky and Jack stood in the door. Jack tapped the other man's arm and motioned with his head to move away. Ducky smiled and the two strolled down the corridor, content to give their boys some much needed time.

"Was worried." Gibbs leaned down, brushing his lips against Tony's. The handsome Italian smiled a bit before yawning. "See how I rate."

"Yep." Tony smiled as he continued to tease Gibbs. "Know I've got morning breath, you just kissed me, and now I'm sleepy again." Gibbs laughed softly.

"Love you."

"Not as much as I love you." Tony closed his eyes and drifted off into a comfortable, non-medication-induced slumber.

########

Two days later found Tony ensconced on the couch while Jethro fumbled with changing the DVD for a new one. They'd just finished watching some Kung-Fu movie, and Tony had requested a musical for their next entertainment. Jethro had looked at him like he'd grown a second head, but had struggled to his feet and limped to the console, where he was currently testing his motor skills with the thin disks.

"Need some help?" Jack stood wiping his hands dry on a towel that had been over his shoulder.

"Got it, Jack." Gibbs smiled triumphantly when he got the first disk successfully back into its box, and the second into the player. "Thanks, though."

Jethro's speech had improved greatly over the past two days, and while he wasn't "fluent" and still needed to stop and search for words on occasion, he'd come a long way. Jack nodded, laughter in his eyes as he saw the title of the movie Tony had chosen.

"You do know that's a musical, don't you?"

"I asked for it, Jack." Tony beamed. "Love this movie!"

"Is this you talking, or you on pain pills talking?"

"Honestly, Dad." Tony grinned, even as he put a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. "Don't you know that there's nothing better than good looking men dancing?"

"Ouch." Jethro winked to his dad. "I'm in trouble. Barely walking here."

"You?" Tony looked up at the man he loved. "You're sexy even when you're in bed and I have to help you sit up."

Jack pretended to plug his ears as he walked away.

"Did not need to know that, Anthony DiNozzo." The oldest Gibbs grinned as rich laughter floated through the house, carried by the sounds of Gene Kelly, Donald O'Connor, and Debbie Reynolds singing the opening theme of "Singing in the Rain."

Jethro made his way back to the couch, and Tony sat up just a bit, making sure his man had room to sit. Once he was seated, Tony leaned back against him, drawing Jethro's arm around himself, smiling when Jethro entwined his fingers around the ones Tony had sticking out of his sling. The silver haired man pulled the hand he held to his lips and kissed it as Don Lockwood sang "You Were Meant For Me" to his on-screen romance, Kathy Selden.

Tony winced a bit as his arm was lifted, but he'd not trade the tender touch for anything. He knew that no stiches had pulled, and he'd only had a momentary pain. Jethro felt him tense.

"I'm sorry." Gibbs lowered Tony's arm quickly. "Didn't mean to hurt you."

"You didn't." Tony smiled, squeezing Jethro's hand so he couldn't pull it away. "Thanks for caring."

"What else would I do?" Jethro earned another smile from his partner as he pressed his lips to Tony's temple. "You're part of me."

The two relaxed against one another, and when Jack checked in on them a half-hour later, they were sound asleep, cuddled into one another. He glanced up at the clock and sighed. He hoped he'd not wake Jethro up when he roused Tony for his pain pill.

##########

Abby bit her lip as Tim described the questioning he'd been subjected to. He apologized for asking her to call instead of calling himself. He told her that his excuse of not wanting to upset Gibbs had been a pretty terrible one, and that the news would have been far better coming from someone who knew what was going on, instead of their former boss getting it second hand.

"I'm really sorry, Abby." Tim leaned against the table in her lab. "I knew we'd messed up, and I was feeling guilty, and used that as an excuse to put you in the middle." He lifted sorrowful eyes to hers. "I'm really sorry I hurt you, Tony, and Gibbs."

"Are you really sorry or are you sorry just because you got caught?" Tim weighed the question for a moment before he answered.

"I'm sorry because I've seen my mistake." He spoke slowly, wanting to get it right. "I'm honestly not sure I would have seen it if it hadn't been pointed out to me." He sighed heavily. "I guess sometimes I have my head up my ass, and this time, I did." He held out his hand, hoping she would take it. "Will you forgive me?"

"I forgive you, Timmy." Abby took his hand, even as her eyebrow quirked. "Have you apologized to Tony and Gibbs yet?"

"Not yet." He cleared his throat as his nervousness showed through. "Can you go with me? Sort of back me up?" His eyes took on a glimmer of fear. "I mean, Gibbs is scary, Tony is frightening, and I've wronged them both."

"Well, of course, my little bookworm." She leaned forward and kissed his cheek. "Let me get my babies shut down, and we can go."

"Thanks, Abs."

McGee felt a wave of relief wash over him. He wouldn't be alone in the lion's den, even though that was what he deserved. The drive to their house seemed shorter than usual, and Tim took a deep breath before he mounted the stairs. He gave himself an internal pep-talk, accepted the smile Abby offered, and went in to admit to his wrong-doing.

#######

Leon Vance looked down at the IA review before him. Tim McGee was guilty of only being a coward when it came to calling a partner's family. Ducky had only answered questions from the doctor, and when partnered with information the ME was unaware that the attending physician "knew", painted a picture of an unruly patient who needed more medication instead of less, to avoid further surgery.

The big problem was with Ziva David. She was no longer on loan from Mossad, and technically wasn't really a probationary agent any longer, either. She was, however, in some hot water. He'd had cases where agents took it upon themselves to make decisions, but she was a little worse than Gibbs when it came to that. He rubbed the tension in his forehead, wishing like anything that he was on vacation and his second in command could deal with this.

Vance sighed and picked up the phone. He hated these things that could turn into political nightmares in a hurry. Had she been anyone else, he'd have dealt with her dangerous behavior before, however, she was the daughter of one of his closest allies; an ally who would not take kindly to discipline, and who had the resources to make trouble. Sometimes some of his associations weren't worth the trouble.

######

Jack glared at McGee, who stood just inside the front door. The young man looked down at his feet for a moment. Jack glanced back to Abby, who was twisting her fingers nervously.

"You got a reason to be here?" Jack's eyes were lacking their usual humor.

"I came to apologize."

"They're sleeping." Jack turned and went into the kitchen. Abby pushed Tim's shoulder, forcing him forward a bit.

"Go and talk to him." She whispered as she kept pushing. "Go."

He walked into the kitchen, unsure of how to proceed. It was rare that he ate crow, and he'd never had such a large slew of them to eat. McGee found himself thinking briefly that it was very fitting for a large group to be called a "murder".

"Jack, I'm sorry." Tim's voice didn't waver as he spoke. "I used the poor excuse of not hurting Gibbs, of not scaring him. I was wrong." He cleared his throat. Jack was still seemingly ignoring him. "I was afraid that I'd cause him more problems, and I didn't want to do that."

"But Abby could?"

"I've already apologized to her." Tim shrugged. "I've got a long list of people to apologize to."

"I'd say so." Jack's voice still held ice. "What's your excuse for not answering your phone while we were driving? You were at the hospital, Ziva was with you, and yet neither of you could answer."

"I was a coward, and deserve to have all of you angry with me, Jack. I don't have any excuses." He kept his eyes trained on his hands as he spoke, not aware that Jack was now staring at him intently. "I let myself believe that Gibbs wouldn't be as upset if the news came from Abby, and when he started calling, I was too chicken to pick up the phone and talk to him."

"Seems you've grown a pair." Jack sat back. "Did you know about Ziva talking to the doctor?"

"No." Tim shook his head. "I didn't talk to any doctors, and the only nurse we had contact with that I knew about was the one who came out to give us an update. Ziva went to the bathroom not long after. I had no reason to believe she was doing anything else."

"Well, since that's the same story I got from Ducky, I guess I'll believe it." Jack sat back. "However." His eyes took on a predatory gleam. "I want you to explain to me why you've not been over here in these past few months. Abby's been over, and the boys did a good job of hiding their troubles. But you and Ziva didn't darken that door even once." McGee squirmed.

"I think we know why Ziva hasn't come." Jack's eyes narrowed. "I want to know why you haven't come. Why haven't you been by, even once, to check on your former boss?"

McGee rubbed his hands nervously along his pant legs for a moment. He looked up, and then back down. A glance at Abby told him that he'd get no help from her.

"I get nervous around sick people." He sounded more nervous than he'd looked only moments before. "I don't know what to say or do." Tim shrugged helplessly. "So I stay away."

"So it was easier for you to ignore your friend, who needed someone to just come around sometimes, than it was to put your fears aside?"

"Yeah." Tim swallowed hard. "It was easier for me. I mean, what do I say?" He looked up. "Tony kept saying they were fine."

"You believed that?" Jack snorted. "I was hours away, and they managed to fool me, sure. But you were in the office with Tony, day in and day out, and you never once caught on?"

"He's our best undercover agent for a reason, Jack." Tim finally met the older man's eyes. "I was wrong to not call, and I was wrong to not come over. I'll accept that. But I really didn't know the other problems were going on."

"Fine." Jack stood up, and motioned for McGee to follow him. "I'll buy that for now." He paused in the door of the living room and pointed to the sleeping couple. "You screwed up and you're here to apologize. So apologize."

"They're sleeping."

"So wake them up." Jack shook his head at Abby when she moved to join her friend. This was something the young man needed to do on his own.

As Jack and Abby moved to sit back at the table, Tim walked over to the couch and softly spoke the men's names, hoping to rouse them gently. He cleared his throat and spoke louder, this time earning a grunt of disapproval from Gibbs. The older man blinked awake moments later, his expression ugly.

"What the hell is your problem?" His words were slurred. "We're sleeping."

"I-I-I, um, I know, Boss."

Gibbs glare was filled with fury, and McGee found that he was glad to know that the older man wouldn't hurt Tony to get at him. Had someone already told Gibbs everything? Tim swallowed loud enough for Gibbs to hear it.

"What do you want, McGee?" Each word was punctuated with venom, and Tim took an involuntary step backwards. "Either say something, or get the fuck out of my house." Gibbs glowered at Tim as he spoke.

"I'm really sorry, Boss." Tim spoke as quickly as he could.

"Keep your voice down." Gibbs moved his head a bit, motioning toward Tony, who was miraculously still asleep.

"Yes, Boss." The younger man began to whisper. "I didn't know that Tony was being doped up, Boss. I really didn't. I'm sorry." He told the story from start to finish, leaving nothing but his fear of the infirm out. While he spoke, Tony had begun to rouse, and once Tim was to the part about the misunderstanding about medications and the need to keep Tony occupied, or in this case, unconscious, his new team leader was awake and furious.

"Shut up, Timmy." Tony's words slurred together. "Blockin' the TV, and you're missing the ice cream truck."

"What?" McGee took a step closer, trying to make out what his boss was saying. "I don't understand."

"Get me a snow cone." Tony's head lulled to the side, landing back on Jethro's shoulder with a soft thump. "Grape one."

"There's no ice cream truck, Tony."

"Yes, there is." Tony's eyes crossed as he tried to focus on his 2IC. "Can hear it." He shook his head, and he looked up. "You're not here to drug me, are you? Cuz, I got plenty." Gibbs glared at McGee, as if to say _I told you so_.

"No, I'm not here to drug you, Tony. I'm here to apologize, and to tell you that I didn't know about it."

"So why the hell aren't you chasing whoever did it?"

"She's already caught, Boss."

"I'm not Boss." Tony let his head flop again. "He is." He was silent for a moment. "Why are there two of you? You have a twin you never told me about? Or is it my eyes?"

"It's your eyes, Tony. You know my sister."

"Right. Nothing like you." Tony looked around in confusion again. "Where's my snow cone? You miss the truck?"

"There was no truck, Tony." McGee pinched the brow of his nose. "I came to apologize for not taking better care of you, and for not being here for you guys. I could give excuses, but they're just that, excuses. So I'll keep them to myself and take the blame for my actions."

"Way to grow some balls, McGuilty." Tony smirked. His words were still so slurred that Tim could barely understand him. "Now shove it up your ass and go get my snow cone."

Tim narrowed his eyes and looked to Gibbs, who merely shrugged. As McGee headed for the door on the hunt for the elusive ice-cream truck and a few snow cones, Tony decided it was time to serenade his friends.

"Abby!" Tony called loudly. "Abby! You still here?"

"Yeah, Tony, I'm here." She stood in the doorway. "What'cha need?"

"Wanna sing for you."

"Don't you think you should rest?"

"Nope." Tony tapped his head. "It's stuck up there."

"What song you gonna sing, Tony?" Gibbs asked patiently. Tony grinned as he cleared his throat.

"_Me froggy, he am a queer bird, he ain't got no tail almost hardly!  
he run and he jump, and he fall on his rump, where he ain't got no tail almost hardly!  
I know just how ugly I are. My face ain't no bright shining star.  
I really don't mind it, cuz I am behind it, the feller up front get the jar."_

He began to giggle, his legs jolting with the laughter he tried to keep contained. Gibbs was shaking his head, wondering just where his lover had come up with that song while Abby leaned on the door post.

"I got another one. Wait." Gibbs looked over, wary of whatever weirdness would start next, and he began to laugh as he heard the first lines of the song. This one had gotten him each and every time.

_I started on a journey just about a year ago,  
To a little town called "Morrow" in the state of Ohio  
I'd never been much of a traveller and I really didn't know,  
That Morrow was the hardest place I'd ever try to go.__  
_

_So I went down to the station for my ticket and applied  
For tips regarding Morrow not expecting to be guide  
Said I, "My friend, I'd like to go to Morrow and return,  
No later than tomorrow for I haven't time to burn."__  
_

_Said he to me,__Now let me see if I have heard you right  
You'd like to go to Morrow and return tomorrow night  
You should have gone to Morrow yesterday and back today,  
For the train that goes to Morrow is a mile upon its way  
If you had gone to Morrow yesterday now don't you see,  
You could have gone to Morrow and returned today at 3  
For the train today to Morrow if the schedule is right,  
Today it gets to Morrow and returns tomorrow night.__  
_

_Said I, "I'd like to go to Morrow so can I go today,  
And get to Morrow by tonight if there is no delay?"__  
__"Well, well," I said to him, and I've got no more to say,__  
__"Can you get anywhere tomorrow and get back again today?"__  
_

_Said I, "I guess you know it all, but kindly let me say,  
How can I get to Morrow if I leave this town today?"_

_Said he, You cannot go to Morrow anymore today,  
For the train that goes to Morrow is a mile upon its way.__  
_

_I was so disappointed, I was mad enough to swear  
The train had gone to Morrow and it left me standing there  
The man was right in telling me,__  
_

_You are a howling jay  
You cannot go to Morrow…_

_Well I guess in town I'll stay._

Tony laughed uproariously, not caring for the moment that his shoulder hurt, or that life wasn't what he'd hoped it would be. Humor always provided him with an escape…painkillers made it easy.

Moments later he slumped against Gibbs, his body suddenly lax. Abby took a step forward, concern written on her features. Gibbs shook his head and held up his fist, putting up first his index finger, and then his middle. Abby realized he was counting down, and bit back a burst of laughter.

_One…Two…Three…_ He pointed to Tony, who let loose with a loud snore.

Abby returned to the kitchen, letting Jack know that all was well. The old man was seated with a coffee cup in one hand and a pencil in the other as he worked a puzzle. His eyes twinkled.

"If those two ever decided to adopt, the world would be in trouble." Gibbs drifted off to sleep with the sound of their laughter reminding him that there was still goodness in the world.

When the guys woke long after the sun had gone down, Jack grinned as he presented them with a box of individually wrapped snow cones.

"What are those?" Tony's lips curled as he asked. He liked sugar, but those things were gross.

"You apparently drove home the fact to Tim that you wanted snow cones. You were very specific that you wanted the grape ones."

"You're kidding me."

"Nope." The eldest Gibbs smirked and handed Tony one that he had already unwrapped. "Merry Christmas in July."

"Hardy-har-har."


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimer: Don't own it.

Note: Thanks to my beta, Headbanger Rockstar…the other note is at the bottom, and please take a moment and read it when you're done. Thanks! **Oh, this chapter covers about 2 years in little shots.**

############

"So, boys." Jack sat down after serving the younger men their dinner. "Need to talk to ya."

"Uh-oh." Tony's eyes grew wide. Those were never good words, especially when they came from your not-so-father-in-law.

"No uh-oh's." Jack's eyes twinkled. "Well, I don't think so, anyway."

"What is it, Jack?" Gibbs sat forward.

"I want to move up here." He shrugged. "Be around, help out when I can." Jethro began to shake his head. "What?"

"You can't give up everything just because I'm sick."

"I'm not." Jack relaxed back into his chair. "I've got a lot of friends in Stillwater, son, but no family. My family, you and Tony, are up here. We're all at a place where we need one another. You need help now, and in a few years, I'm gonna need it."

"Dad, you're not…" Tony started to protest, but Jack held his hand up.

"I'm no spring chicken, and let's not pretend that I am, ok?"

"What do you have in mind, Jack?" The Gibbs men locked eyes. They had come a long way in the past two weeks, and both had a stubborn streak. Jethro knew when his father had made up his mind that it was just like his… unchangeable.

"Wanna put the house and the store on the market." Jack cleared his throat. "I've got an idea for a new store that may fill a gap up here."

"What's that?" Tony sat back and watched the Gibbs men discuss Jack's plans for a new grocery store. It wouldn't be big, but it'd serve a growing number of people who needed things that couldn't be found in the local health food stores.

"That's a good idea, Jack." Gibbs grinned. "Think I could help you out some? Maybe even help you find stuff to stock it with? I was talking to a mother in Dr. Paulus' office, and she's needing to find foods with no dye. Seems her son can't have anything with food dyes. Causes him to just about climb walls. Guess that happens to a lot of ADHD kids and additives."

"I'm counting on you, son." Jack beamed. "After all, can't have a family owned business without family, now, can we?"

"Guess not." Tony smiled. His man had a new purpose, and it was one that would keep him busy and helping others.

"So, Dad, besides the weird fact that I call you Dad and your son calls you Jack, are there gonna be any other requirements to this family business?"

"Not really, Tony. Why? What do you have in mind?"

"Well, I'm headed back to work tomorrow, and…"

"And you've been told to take another week off, son."

"I need to go in, Jack." Tony ran his hands down his face. "Not that I don't want to be here, but I need to find a replacement for Ziva…"

"What's happening to her?"

"She's being retrained, and is back in FLET-C, but I don't want her back on my team. She needs to go somewhere new."

"Surprised she still has a job."

"Friends in high places."

"Or a Daddy with them." Gibbs rolled his eyes. "Anyway, moving on. You were saying about family in this business?"

"Yeah. What about Abby? Can you guys use her help? She's always on the lookout for new stuff, and she's helped…"

"She's in." The Gibbs men spoke in stereo, and Tony started to laugh.

"Next question." Jack's eyebrows rose. "Where are you gonna stay? Do we need to get a room set up for you permanently, or do you want to have your own space? Cuz I gotta tell ya, it's been nice having you here, but I can also see how it'd be stressful…"

"Got a problem with me using your spare room, Leroy?"

"Only if you keep calling me Leroy."

#######

Tony drove onto the Navy Yard less than 12 hours later, content in the knowledge that even if Jethro had a bad day, he'd not be alone. Jack was staying up in DC, not willing to leave even for packing up his house. He'd informed his two head-strong boys that they'd been idiots once, and he didn't trust them to not be idiots again.

Tony chuckled as he remembered how much ribbing he'd gotten for all of the times he'd told Jack they were fine. Indeed, every time he'd been asked how he was and had replied "fine", Jack had shoved a pain pill at him. It had only taken two days, but Tony had learned to be honest with the old man.

"Mornin' Abs!" Tony strolled into her lab and put a Caff-Pow on her table. "Got anything fun?"

"Nope." She turned to him, her smile wide. "Just some happy thoughts cuz you're back. Do those count?"

"They sure do!" He gave her a hug that rivaled one of her own, and settled down to the business of asking her over to their house for dinner.

"Nothing's wrong, right?"

"Nope, we have a proposition for you." Abby's eyes took on a gleam, and Tony knew he'd chosen the wrong word.

"A proposition." She tapped her chin. "A proposition. My, oh, my the thing my brain can think."

"Control it, young lady." He leaned in and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Keep it clean, you have to bowl with the nuns tomorrow night, and don't want to have to waste your time in confession."

"True, but too late." He laughed as the doors swished closed behind him.

#########

Jack and Jethro walked into the empty store his dad had been eyeing, and the two men poked around as the realtor rambled on about the benefits of the location and the new refrigeration system that had been put in just before the last store closed.

"The floor is good and solid, and I'm not seeing any structural damage, Jack."

"Don't think there is any." Jack looked up. "Need to get someone up on the roof to check that out."

"I have the papers from the last inspection, gentlemen." The man who was hoping for a sale bristled.

"Don't trust those." Jack shook his head. "If someone is selling, they're gonna hide the flaws. Not saying that your seller isn't honest, I'm just saying that's business."

"Yep." Gibbs smirked. "Ever wonder why people don't like salesmen?"

While the Gibbs men were driving the realtor nuts, Tony was getting on Vance's last nerve.

"Any more applicants for me to chew up and spit out?" He grinned at the man who was currently chomping on his fourth toothpick of the day.

"I have three more, DiNozzo." Vance ground out. "Pick one of these three, or I assign someone. And I can guarantee you won't like it."

"If it's Ziva, I'll leave her behind every case we work."

"No, DiNozzo. I'll promote someone from Internal Affairs." Tony gulped and looked down at his last three choices. Perhaps he shouldn't have made the last fifteen applicants cry. Funny. It had always worked for Gibbs.

###########

Tony walked into the conference room where his new team member sat. She was fresh out of FLET-C, and while he could have chosen someone who was proven in the field, he figured it was time to bring in some fresh meat and get Timmy into the position of training someone. Perhaps with some added responsibility, the kid would keep his head out of his ass, and stop making so many stupid choices.

"Welcome to the team." He pretended to be distracted as he watched her squirm in her seat. "Got a few rules to go over."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't call me sir. I work for a living." Tony poured himself a cup of water, and offered her one. He sat after she politely refused. "First off, I'm the boss." He waited until she made eye contact. "I've been in this business for years, and it's my job to get you trained up. You're a probationary agent. That means that if I feel you're not following orders, or if you run off half-cocked, I can your ass. Got it?"

"Yes." Laurie Peters nodded as she spoke.

"Good. I have the responsibility of making sure you've got a good understanding of protocols and safety procedures. It's my job to get you home every night to your family, and I can't do that if you're not following orders. Yes, this job is dangerous, I'm not gonna lie to you and say that I can always keep you safe. I can't." He took a sip of his water. "I can, however, teach you to work with a group of people so that everyone is as safe as possible. That's what I'm expecting from you. I know you've got a lot to learn. I'm not expecting perfection, and if you're unsure, you need to ask questions. Learning is a two way street, Peters."

"I'll do my best."

"Good." Tony stood and opened the door. "Let's go meet Tim and you can start by clearing out your predecessor's desk. She couldn't follow orders, and was a liability."

"What happened to her?"

"Something you hope will never happen to you." He led her to the bullpen and nodded to Tim, who stood and shook her hand. "Probie, meet your probie."

"Hi, I'm Tim McGee." Tim offered her a quick smile. "I, um, I got you a box to put the stuff from her desk into."

"I'm Laurie, thanks." Tony breezed out of the bullpen, leaving McGee to start the process of growing up. She watched him leave. "Is he always like that?"

"Tony?" Tim shook his head. "He wasn't always. However, I suggest that you get used to it. There's a reason he is the way he is, and frankly, I've learned the hard way that disregarding orders is going to get you hurt. So far, he's taken the brunt of it, but I'm not holding out hope that next time, it won't be me."

"So what does that mean for me?"

"That means that if he says jump, you ask how high. If he says I'm in charge, and I tell you to jump, you ask how high."

"What happened?" She opened the drawers to Ziva's desk and began packing it up. "To the person who used to sit here, I mean?"

"She couldn't follow orders, and someone was shot." Laurie gulped and began to clean out the desk, not asking any more questions about it.

######

Six months after they had agreed on a location for their grocery store, the Gibbs men welcomed their first customer. They had networked and were prepared with a list of nutritionists who were available for consultations by appointment, and a group of other knowledgeable people who could help those in need of less conventional dietary aid.

Dr. Paulus stood in the aisle containing dried fruits and smiled. This was what this city needed. He finally had a grocery store he'd feel comfortable and confident sending his patients to.

"Jethro, it's amazing what you guys have done."

"It's all Jack's doing." Gibbs blushed a bit.

"Not from what he said." The wiry doctor smiled up at his friend. "You've been doing so much better, and you've helped a lot. Don't discount your hard work. You've been working on your health as well as this store." He pulled himself up to his full height, which was still shorter than the former Marine. "I'm proud of you, Mr. Gibbs."

Jethro stood there for a moment, totally unsure of what to say. He'd not done anything but help in opening a store like he'd wanted to find when he first got sick.

"I still have bad days, Doc. Not there yet. Not really."

"I disagree, Mr. Gibbs." The man reached out and pulled a bag of garbanzo bean flour from the shelf. "You've created a space where others like you and many of my other patients can shop safely and not worry about the hidden toxins they'll find. That is quite an accomplishment."

"Thanks, Doc."

"Absolutely. Just don't forget that you have an appointment tomorrow." Dr. Paulus smiled broadly. "I'm hoping that we can start to have monthly appointments instead of the weekly ones. Not that I haven't enjoyed your company, but you're improving. And that is a wonderful thing for me to see."

"Gets me out of your hair."

"No. It gets you back to your life."

##########

Gibbs tossed Tony's jeans into their shared suitcase. He smiled as he reached into the closet and pulled out their hip waders and vests. There had been a day not too long ago that… the door downstairs slammed, and he grinned. Tony was home.

"Hey, Babe." Tony bounced into their bedroom and planted a wet smooch on his lovers' cheek. "How are you?"

"Doing good." Gibbs smiled as he held up two shirts, silently asking Tony to pick one. "How was your day?"

"Nice. It's good to have a solid team. McGee's made a fine agent." Tony pointed to the blue shirt. "You'd be proud of him."

"He stopped in at the store the other day. He's looking good."

"Yeah, lost that pudginess that always made him look like a little kid. He's still got those sad puppy eyes." The men shared a laugh over the feature that made women either take him under their wing as a favorite project, or try to take him home for their toy.

"Abby's got a good hold on him."

"That she does." Tony pulled his shirt off, tossing into the hamper as he stepped into the bathroom for a quick shower. "Has she called you yet?"

"No, why?" Gibbs poked his head in and laughed as he watched Tony nearly fall over as he tried to take his socks off while still standing. It would have worked had he not had his pants only half off. "Do I need to teach you how to dress?"

"No, smartass." Tony tossed one of the dirty socks at Gibbs and stepped into the shower.

"So why would Abby call me?"

"Not allowed to tell you." Gibbs cell rang, and a rather obnoxious noise filled the small room. "Better get that, Gibbs."

"Change my phone back, Tony. I don't need it to know it's her."

"But it's like the epitome of Gothic music!"

"It's annoying." He flipped his handset open. "Yeah, Gibbs." He listened to the young woman babble on for a few minutes before a smile spread across his face. "Of course I'll be happy to be Grandpa." He schooled his features and tried, knowing he was failing, to use his best boss voice. "And you tell McGee that if he doesn't take good care of you and tend to your every craving, that I'll kick his ass the next time he's in the store." Behind the counter, Tony snorted in laughter. "Oh, he already threatened him in the same way, huh?" He listened to her babble on for a few more minutes. "Just be sure and stop by to see Jack, ok? He'll want to know." He listened for a few more moments. "Yep, love you too, Kiddo."

Tony waited, wondering what his lover was going to do next. He'd been surprised by the news earlier, and more than a little miffed at his teammate, who had certainly stepped up to the plate, but wasn't quite what Tony had hoped for Abby's future. She needed someone who wasn't a stick in the mud, and sometimes McGee got so stuck in his own ideas that he took a while to come around. It worried Tony a bit that McGee hadn't mentioned the baby, but then, perhaps that had been their decision.

"Hey, Tony?"

"Yeah, Babe?"

"McGee do anything stupid lately?"

"Like what? He's been good on his job, and he's been training two probies. You mean stupid like that?"

"No." Gibbs drew the word out. "Stupid like not paying attention to our girl."

"What did she say?"

"It's more of what she didn't say." Gibbs peered around the curtain, watching the husband of his heart finish his shower. "She didn't say anything about him being happy about the baby, or even caring one way or another." He was quiet for a moment. "When Shannon was pregnant with Kelly, she was always so quick to tell everyone how happy we both were."

"Well, I've not heard McGee say a word about it, but I wasn't sure if that was because they'd discussed it, or if he's just not with it yet."

"Wanna stop by there, Tony." Gibbs stepped out of the way, giving room for Tony to emerge from the shower. "Need to make sure…"

"Sure thing, Grandpa." Tony leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Jethro's lips. Gibbs in turn smacked his ass. "None of that if you want to get out of here."

"You're no fun."

"Oh, you'll be singing a different tune later, my love." With a wink, Tony pulled on his boxers and began to dress.

########

Tim McGee paced his living room, alternating between being terrified, pissed, thrilled, and freaked out. The thought of having children hadn't ever terrified him until Abby told him she was pregnant, and suddenly, the idea of having a new generation of McGees' had been the most frightening thing he'd ever thought of. That fear turned to anger that she'd gotten pregnant in the first place. They usually used a condom, but she'd been on the pill, so when and how had the "mistake" happened? The anger would give way to a rush of joy that they'd somehow screwed up on the contraceptive end and would be parents in the next few months. Once the rush of joy had run through, he'd be left with the sheer panic of knowing he needed to get ready to bring a new life into this world. They needed a house, baby furniture, and Gibbs… Tim held his breath. Abby was that man's baby girl. Tim wondered if he'd survive to see his son or daughter born.

"Oh, crap." Tim booted up his computer. "I wonder where she wants to live. Shit. I can't pick a house if I haven't looked into school systems." He sat down, only to bounce back up again. "But what if we buy a house, and then by the time he's ready for school, the system isn't as good?"

He was saved from his next random thought by his doorbell ringing. He threw open the door, wondering why Abby would ring. She'd had a key for months.

"Boss!"

"McGee." Gibbs drew out the man's name. "Gonna ask me in, or are we gonna have this conversation out in the hall?"

"Sorry, come in." McGee stepped back. "Is Tony here, too?"

"He's waiting in the car."

"Ah." Tim bounced on his toes. "Um, Gibbs, I'm not sure…"

"Not sure what, McGee?"

"I screwed up, Boss." Tim ran his hands through his hair. "We talked about kids." He began pacing, making Gibbs smirk as he mimicked Abby's lab routine. "But we weren't planning on now."

"Kinda late."

"I know."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"That's it, Boss." Tim whirled around, facing his former team leader. "I'm happy, and scared, and mad, and…"

"One thing at a time, Tim." The younger man nodded. "Why are you scared?"

"This isn't planned. I mean, we're not ready. We don't have a house, and we're not married yet, and I don't know what area she wants to move to. I mean, we need to start looking at school systems, and then there's the endless shopping list of baby furniture, and we've got to…"

"Tim?"

"Yeah?"

"You're worried about stuff that you need to figure out with Abby. Take a breath." Gibbs grinned. "We've got a handle on the scared part. What about the mad part?"

"I'm not mad she's pregnant. That's not it."

"Then what is it?"

"Well, we used protection. She was on the pill, and I usually used condoms. I just don't get it. We were careful. Really. And we're not in a position to be having kids. I mean, I work long hours. We'd talked about me moving to the Cybercrimes before we had kids, so that I'd have better hours, and not be in the field or in danger. This isn't according to the plan at all, Gibbs."

"Life happens that way, Tim. Are you happy at all about this? Or are you so lost in the details that you're just over your head?"

"I'm happy." Tim nodded, but his face was stone. "I'm just terrified of screwing up. I mean, this is a life. Not my life, not Abby's life, but a baby." A smile started to creep into his features. "Oh, God. Abby's having my baby." He drew in a deep breath, almost as if trying to keep himself from flying apart.

"You ok, kid?"

"No! I gotta go. I'm such an idiot!"

"Ya think?"

"Yeah. Sorry, Boss, but I gotta go." Tim started to gather his wallet and phone as he spoke, pocketing things as quickly as he could. "She asked me if I was happy, and I didn't answer. Oh, shit."

Gibbs carefully locked the door after Tim ran out. The silver haired man had a smile plastered on his face that nearly made his cheeks hurt. The more he thought about the conversation he'd just had, the more he chuckled. By the time he was back in the car with his love, his face was red and tears pooled in the corners of his eyes from laughter.

"What the hell? Jethro? What did you do to him? He just ran past me, white as a ghost. Didn't even see me." Gibbs took a deep breath and recounted his talk with McGee.

"And then he realized that he'd never told her if he was happy or not, and Tony, you should have seen him." Gibbs wiped a tear of laughter from his face. "I swear, you'd have thought he'd gotten the call that she was in labor."

Tony laughed with him as they raced down the highway. He reached over and took his partner's hand in his. It seemed that in many ways, they'd traded places over the past four years. Gibbs had found laughter easier, and he'd stepped into the role of class clown with aplomb, while Tony had become quieter, more observant, and often found himself working on little projects he'd once teased Jethro about. He raised Gibbs hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the back of it.

"What?" Gibbs looked over at him, his face still red from his laughter.

"Nothing." Tony shrugged. "Just thinking."

"I was thinking earlier today on how the last four years have been such a fight, and yet such a wonderful time, all at once." Gibbs squeezed Tony's hand. "I'm so lucky to have you by my side." He looked over to his lover and graced him with a brilliant smile. "Thanks for never giving up on me."

"Never." Tony leaned over, silently asking Gibbs to meet him halfway for a smooch.

Silence reigned in the car for several minutes, while Tony tried to get his thoughts and words in order. He had so much to say, and yet words seemed inadequate.

"I'd never leave you, Jethro." Gibbs glanced over to his partner. "Even if you got sick again, or if you had been worse than what you were, I'd never leave you." He laced his fingers through Jethro's. "I know I don't tell you enough, but I'm so proud of you, Babe."

"Tony…"

"No, let me finish, ok?" Gibbs nodded. "There were so many days when you hurt so bad you just wanted to die, and so many others when you were embarrassed about the changes happening to your brain and your body, and I know that sometimes, it was hard for you to just stay alive. I know there were times when you were just ready to go and be done. I'm so glad you didn't."

Tony drew in a deep breath and pulled off at a rest area.

"Come on, let's take a walk."

"You ok?" Gibbs had never seen Tony this…melancholy before, especially not right after laughing.

"I'm better than I've ever been before." He pulled Jethro to him and kissed him. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Gibbs searched Tony's face. "What's going on?"

"It's been four years today, Jethro, since I thought I was going to lose you." Tony swallowed hard and rested his head on his lovers shoulder. "I know it's not really our anniversary, but Babe, it's like we have a new start to life." He drew in a shuddery breath. "Our lives are so different than we expected them to be, but it's so much better. I can't imagine life without you. I'm so thankful that I don't have to."

Gibbs wrapped his arms even tighter around Tony and held the man he loved more than life. They stood pressed together, simply holding one another, and neither cared about the time. Jethro finally pressed a kiss to the side of Tony's head and whispered, his lips brushing the sensitive outer edges.

"You'll never be alone, Tony." He captured his lover's lips with a chaste kiss. "Come on, need to get there before dark."

"Pushy."

"Yep." Gibbs winked. "That's why you keep me around."

########

Twenty minutes later they pulled into their rented cabin. They began to unload their equipment, and Tony chuckled over some of Jethro's choices.

"What? It'll taste good."

"I don't doubt that, Gibbs, but why not put it in the cooler?"

"Cuz I wanted it sort of melty."

"You're so weird."

"And you know you love it."

"True." Tony smacked his ass, earning a surprised yelp from Gibbs as they walked up the three steps into the cabin.

"What was that for?"

"Cuz I can do that now without you losing your balance."

"Oh." Gibbs pretended to glare at his husband. "So if I want to protect my assets, I need to trip on occasion?"

"Only if you're not wanting me to touch." Tony leered down Gibbs body.

"Maybe after we do some fishing." Gibbs face split into the grin that Tony had often described as "shit-eating" and picked up his tackle box. "I want fish for dinner. You coming?"

"Not yet, but I plan to." Tony smirked and picked up his own pole and box. "Lead on, oh Great Fisher."

They spent the evening fishing and talking, and well after dark, they made their way back to the little cabin. Gibbs hands were still a little unsteady at times, so Tony cleaned and fileted the fish while Gibbs cooked the side dishes and got the frying pan hot.

"You done yet?"

"Yeah." Tony handed Jethro the two fish they'd kept. "Good enough?"

"You have learned well, young Padawan."

"Ooh! Nice movie reference there, Gibbs!"

"I ought to know that, DiNozzo." Jethro rolled his eyes. "You've only made me watch that silly thing a dozen times."

"True." Tony wrapped his arms around his man while he cooked. "No television tonight." He pressed a kiss to the tender area behind Gibbs' ear. "What do you want to do?"

"Besides eat?"

"Hm-hm." Tony nuzzled, chuckling when he felt his lover shiver.

"Was planning on getting some dessert."

"Oh? What did we bring?" Tony bit Gibbs ear, holding back his own groan as he heard Jethro's.

"Nothing. Sort of thinking I'd get it al fresco."

Gibbs smiled as he felt Tony tense for a moment. His arousal was impossible to miss as it pressed tightly into his ass, but the best part was the low moan of desire that Tony couldn't hold back.

FIN

AUTHOR'S NOTE: When Headbanger Rockstar asked me for her birthday present, I asked her in return what she wanted. The answer was Gibbs/Tony slash with Gibbs and Tony WHUMP. There's a reason I picked this particular illness to write about. Please take a moment and read.

The disease noted in the story is indeed a real one, and is unfortunately "new", and therefore not "recognized" by the medical profession. Gibbs has the same illness I have, and I'm showing it as realistically as I can. I know, that makes it sort of a Mary Sue. lol Headbanger is my Tony. We're not romantically involved, but she's my best friend, and has seen me through so much crap in the last couple of years that I felt like she was owed a "monument". lol Flying Blind is her "monument".

We have had this joke for AGES that I'm Gibbs, and she's Tony. When I had the farm, I'd do wood working in my LIVING ROOM in the winter. Not even kidding. The workshop would be too cold, so I'd drag the tools in and do what I needed to do in my living room. :) And I main-lined coffee, until the doctor told me no more. THAT was a sad day. And she's totally my Tony. She's my foil to everything serious. Always has a joke, can always diffuse any situation (such as me wanting to kill a doctor), and do it with humor.


End file.
